


We Remain

by AnonymousObsesser



Series: We Remain: TVD/TO Divergent from 4x18 and The Kiss [1]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: 4x18 American Gothic, ADDITIONAL TAGS INCLUDED IN PRE-CHAPTER NOTES, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternative Magics Exist, Betrayal, Blood-sharing, Deja Vu, Did I Mention Unreliable Narrators????, F/M, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Humanity Switch (Vampire Diaries), Impulsiveness, In-Depth Analyses Into Literally Everything Because the Author Literally Cannot Control Herself, Insecurity, Mature discussions, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Side Notes Abound, Sire Bonds Suck, Sire bonds, Slow Romance not Slow Burn, Struggling with Socializing/Normalizing/Stabilizing, The Cure, The Kiss 4x18 American Gothic, The Originals aka The Original Storytellers, The Other Side, Unreliable Narrator, Vampire Bonds all the Vampire Bonds, Vampire!Doppelganger Magic, as in let's be adults about this, being emotionally overwhelmed is a thing and it sucks, but also kind of slow burn but that's a spoiler sorry, sociopathic tendencies abound, worrying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:38:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 78,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousObsesser/pseuds/AnonymousObsesser
Summary: “I missed you,” he murmured.She opened her mouth to return his sentiment, expression already shifting into that perfect Katherine attitude, but her throat closed around the words.She couldn’t close the door fast enough.(Canon Divergence from The Kiss 4x18)





	1. Elena

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a REALLY long, SLOW fic, so you better strap in for the long haul lol !! I've already written close to 110K words and I'm on Ch40, so...I mean, I'm still editing some parts, so updates will be sporadic at best, but for those of you that read my other fics before finding this one--I swear I won't disappear for a year.
> 
> So, a few things to note before we dive into this AU:
> 
> A) ALMOST everything before 4x18 is still canon. There'll be a few mentions/flashbacks to previous scenes that happened w/in canon (like deleted scenes kinda), but it's all mostly the same unless I SPECIFICALLY MENTION it as being different (which'll happen a few times). Mostly though there's just add-ons that mostly don't directly contradict canon.
> 
> B) As for everything AFTER 4x18 (incl. the plot of TO), everything is pretty much up in the air for this story. It'll mainly revolve around Elejah, but there'll be subplots for Klaroline, Rebekah, the Mystic Falls Gang, the NOLA Gang (esp. w/ Cami!! that story will probably be almost all subtext for a while so watch out), etc that might/might not be different from canon--one thing that's CERTAIN to be different is that basically no one'll be taking the Cure (esp. Rebekah).
> 
> C) I honestly don't think Elena was in complete control of her mind when she planned to kill Kol for good. It just doesn't fit w/ who I know her character to be? So you can agree or disagree, but that's the canon I'm building on w/ that dynamic.
> 
> D) Also, I think the writers missed out on a great opportunity w/ Elena's vampirism. I mean--she died, came back human, then died again to become a vampire while her life force was tied to an Enhanced Original. You'd think there would be some side-effects?
> 
> E) I mostly stick to the canon timeline, but there will be some unavoidable changes to it for a few reasons--those reasons mainly being a) the timeline on the wiki makes sense AT BEST abt. 60% of the time and the rest is just inconceivable nonsense, b) certain episodes' events won't happen at all and I need the timeline to go on somehow w/out getting messed up, and c) even watching the episodes and seeing how some happen on back to back days doesn't make sense for characterization purposes. So check the notes for reference to those changes.
> 
> So, that's pretty much it. If anything else comes up that I feel like I need to mention, I will let you know in the chapter notes (either end or beginning, depending on the content). I'll also be including additional tags in the Pre-Chapter Notes to avoid spoilers/etc.
> 
> Anyway! Happy reading! I live for Kudos/Comments but it's not mandatory in any way so don't worry about it. I hope you like this word vomit I call an Elejah fanfiction!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One touch, one kiss, one smile from Elijah Mikaelson of all people, and it all came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, The Kiss 4x18 American Gothic, Unreliable Narrator, Humanity Switch, Sire Bonds

“Katerina.”

She spun on her heel, a slight gasp escaping her lips, and there he was. He looked just the same as he always had, perhaps more handsome with her enhanced senses—she hadn’t seen him since before her transition, after all.

Her eyes widened in surprise. This was… unexpected. Not entirely surprising, given the history he shared with all three of them—the Doppelgängers—but she hadn’t expected him to be Katherine’s… _friend_.

“Elijah,” she breathed, tone almost questioning before she caught herself.

All she could think was: _Em. E-M. Elijah Mikaelson._

She was going to _murder_ Katherine the next time they met.

The Original took a step forward, a small smile on his lips. She quickly straightened, putting her mask back up.

“You’re a little late, aren’t you?” she snarked.

Elena ground her jaw to keep from showing any panic when his steps paused for a split second. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching so closely, but there it was—suspicion. It was gone in an instant, his dark, intense gaze returning to flat, unreadable obsidian. He kept his hand in his pocket as he came closer, a sign of faith she could not and would not take for granted.

She forced herself not to show any anxiety or surprise, nervousness or fear. Reminded herself she had no emotions, she felt _nothing_ , she didn’t _care_ enough to feel any of those things. They had no place in her new outlook. Emotions were the enemy of freedom. She could not allow their return, not after so long without them.

Her resolve would not be broken, even in the presence of a man who essentially amounted to a god in their world, whether those beneath him believed or not.

(Not even in the presence of the only man who’d ever truly understood her; the only man she’d completely trust with her life at any given moment, even despite the things they’d done to each other in the past.)

He stopped barely a foot away from her, almost but not quite encroaching on her personal space, and tilted his head with a soft smile. “You colored your hair,” he observed, tone light.

Elena couldn’t help but jump, just slightly, when his hand came up to caress her jaw, knuckles brushing across her cheek. His fingers wove smoothly through the dyed curls of her hair, shifting them so the locks caught the sunlight peeking through the vines along the gazebo’s pillars. The movement left her suddenly flushed face bare to him, and she watched, almost concerned but also not even close to worried, as his gaze lingered on the strands of her hair.

His fingers slowly combed through her hair once before leaving it be in favor of cupping her jaw more fully. She didn’t even have to force herself to lean into the touch—it came naturally. She shoved the feelings down when they bubbled up, but she didn’t move from his hold.

Elijah’s smile widened when their eyes met. “I like it,” he said after a moment.

She just looked at him for a second, startled. In the back of her mind, she could hear Katherine’s voice, clear as day: _The bad haircut, the doe eyes. You’ll never pass for me._

Elena forced her smile to be bright and happy as she released a breath she shouldn’t have been holding. “Thank you,” she said, “it’s actually gonna—”

The words were cut short when his lips landed on hers.

Something fluttered against her mind, against her chest, against her _skin_ , at the soft touch of his mouth, the gentle bump of their noses an odd comfort. It took seconds for her surprise to wear thin, and she closed her eyes as she surrendered to it.

_You’ll never pass for me. It’ll never work._

_Katerina… I like it._

She could feel Elijah’s lips curl with a happy tilt against hers when she pressed back into him gently. For a few long seconds, it was just the two of them. No Doppelgänger rivals, no emotions raging against the dam, no dead little brothers. Just two people kissing in the soft afternoon sunlight sneaking beneath the shade of this little pergola.

A tingle of not-quite-disappointment raced through her faster than she could catch it when he pulled away. He didn’t go far, swooping back in for a light peck before drawing away completely. Her eyes lingered on his mouth for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

His smile was genuine, eyes warm and bright, and she took a moment to appreciate the openness in his expression. He tapped her chin with his thumb affectionately, hand still caressing her throat.

“I missed you,” he murmured, hands dropping to her waist and giving it a light squeeze.

Elena shifted to cover one of his hands with her own, her other moving up his chest to hover over his heart. She opened her mouth to return his sentiment, expression already shifting into that perfect Katherine attitude, but her throat closed around the words.

_You’ll never pass for me. It’ll never work._

_I missed you._

Elena closed her eyes and took a step back—back, back out of his arms until her spine pressed against a pillar of the gazebo. She ground her teeth together as she pushed back against the… the _thing_ trying to claw its way out.

She couldn’t close the door fast enough.

Something about seeing him, something about watching him look at her and think she was Katherine, something about hearing his voice laced with adoration as he told her he missed her— _Katherine_ , he missed _Katherine_ —it just… it was too much. Weeks of Stefan and Damon and Caroline and everyone else begging for her to turn them back on, of attempts to _force_ her to turn them back on, and she’d withstood it all. She hadn’t cared, hadn’t been affected by anything they threw at her.

One touch, one kiss, one smile from _Elijah Mikaelson_ of all people, and it all came crashing down.

A tear escaped her eye, catching on the palm of her hand as it pressed against the side of her head. It was so _hot_ , suddenly; she felt like she was suffocating even as she worked to take slow, deep breaths. It hurt to breathe, to swallow, to _think_. Everything she’d held back was suddenly there, right there, unfocused and jumbled and too intense and too _much_. Too much, all at once, and she was choking on it.

Elena looked up to find the Original watching her, a worried sort of shock playing at the edges of his suddenly guarded expression.

“I’m not Katherine,” she whispered.

Her voice cracked on the name, and she worked to swallow the sob struggling to be released.

“I’m not Katherine,” she repeated when he didn’t respond immediately.

Elijah tilted his head, demeanor relaxing slightly, though his body language wasn’t quite as open as it had been in the seconds after their kiss. There was a curious look in his eyes even as his mouth remained twisted in concern. He took a slow step toward her.

Only the need to hear his reply kept her from sinking beneath the waves of emotion that were suddenly crashing over her.

“I know.”

And just like that, it was gone. Not the emotions—she could still feel them, fluttering there at the back of her mind—but her connection to them was gone as she stiffened, eyes wide and jaw slack with disbelief.

“You—”

“I know,” Elijah said, slowly this time. “I knew the moment you turned around—though I had my suspicions from across the street.” His smile was amused, but his eyes were still concerned. “The shoes were a nice touch.”

The light tease choked a laugh from her. It quickly turned into a sob, and she fell to her knees.

“Oh, God,” Elena cried. “Oh, God, what have I done—What did I do? What did I _do_?”

Vaguely, as though she were wearing twenty layers of clothing, she felt a hand on her back. Her head was tilted up to look at him, and she shuddered a breath as she watched his pupils dilate.

How could she have been so stupid all these weeks? The last few days traveling with Rebekah?

She’d skipped her vervain. There was nothing, not one drop in her system. He could do whatever he wanted to her, hurt her without even laying a hand on her. And he must want to, right? She’d hurt him so much—daggered him, taken his brother from him, impersonated his lover to get close to him for some clue to the Cure—surely, he would want to hurt her in return.

Of course, she should never have presumed to know anything about Elijah or his feelings or desires.

Rather than demand her submission to him, the Original only brushed his thumb along her cheek to collect the tears there. His lips curled in a soft smile as he cupped her cheek.

“Calm down,” he ordered gently. The compulsion took effect immediately, and her pulse slowed. His fingers combed through her hair in the softest touch. “You’ve abandoned your emotions for too long, Elena. You’re feeling them all at once, now. Everything from the last several weeks or months, it would seem.” He paused before asking, not a single trace of compulsion in his voice, “When did you turn it off?”

“J—January.” Elena grit her teeth against another wave of emotions threatening to break down the dam of calm he’d helped her put up. “Jeremy… It was a m—month ago.” She blinked hard against the tears gathering in her eyes. “Wh—Why are you h—helping me?”

She choked a bit, and Elijah sighed, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Shh,” he murmured in lieu of answering her question. “It’s alright. It can be overwhelming, at first, to suddenly have it all back. The sensations and sudden stimulation may be too much, and it will destroy you if you let it.” He pressed further into her space until she met his gaze. “You must not let it destroy you, Elena.”

“How do I stop it?” Her breath hitched through the syllables even as her tone remained flat. “I… What do I do?”

“Focus on something,” he suggested. “Just one emotion, one feeling.” A pause, hesitation lingering in the set of his mouth. “An event, even—an important one. Let it come up to the surface, above all the others. Just that one. The one thing that makes you who you are, that gives you something to live for.”

“I—I can’t.” Elena forced a deep breath in and out of her lungs, and it shook and shuddered as it passed her lips. “It’s too much, I—”

“Yes, you can,” Elijah said firmly. “Yes, you _can_. Focus, Elena. Let it in.”

His thumb stroked the apple of her cheek as his dark eyes stayed intent on hers—not compelling her, not anymore, but giving her something to focus on.

“You just need to let it in. Let it drown out all the other thoughts and memories and emotions. Then you can slowly let more in, one at a time.”

Elena nodded, closing her eyes and trying to breathe. “I—” She sniffled. “I messed up. I almost killed my friends, I—oh, God, Jeremy—”

“Shh. Just focus.”

When her eyes opened, she was still crying, but it was slowing down to a manageable level.

“My brother is dead,” she whispered. “He’s dead, and I—I miss him so much, oh, God.” Elena shuddered a breath. “It hurts so much, I—why did they make me do that?”

Her eyes were wide when she looked up at him. She caught his grimace before it was wiped from his lips as he sighed. Dimly, she recognized resignation in the depths of his eyes, laced with a sort of hopeful worry.

“How could they do that to me?” She sobbed, more tears streaming down her face. “After everything they did to make sure I had a choice—and then they made me do that. They took my choice—how _could they_?”

Elijah let her fall into his chest as she cried, rubbing circles into her back as he soothed her. “Shh, Elena,” he murmured. “Easy, darling.”

His tone was almost relieved, but Elena was sure that couldn’t be right. Why would he want her to be okay, after all she’d done?

She knew she was clinging like a child, that he was probably waiting for an appropriate moment to show his own anger at _her_ actions, to pull away and tell her off, but…

Elena felt a lot better in his arms than she had in a while, even before she turned off her emotions. She couldn’t help but lean further into him, shifting to put her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. Elijah didn’t seem bothered, for now, simply tightening his hold and keeping her close.

“It’s alright,” he sighed softly, words muffled slightly by her hair. “You’re going to be alright. Just let it in.”

So she did.


	2. Elijah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The woman spun on her heel, startled but graceful nonetheless, and then he saw it. Saw her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, The Kiss 4x18 American Gothic, Unreliable Narrator, Humanity Switch, Sire Bonds, Protective Elijah Mikaelson

She wasn’t _pacing_ , per se, when he came across their meeting place; her steps were slow and measured despite the impatience clearly thrumming throughout her body. For a long moment, he simply studied her, hidden as he was in his position across the street. He had a few minutes to spare, despite the glances she was shooting at her watch—he’d never been late to a meeting, and this wasn’t the time to start.

Something was… _off_ about the woman, though.

Elijah could see her from this distance almost as easily as if he’d been inches from her. She looked the same, for the most part—perks of being frozen forever at eighteen, he supposed—with the same long brown hair, olive skin, and brown eyes he knew would catch the sunlight with that same peculiar sparkle.

(He’d seen it many times in the last millennium.)

Her red dress fell to mid-thigh, showing off endlessly long, tan legs ending in shiny black stilettos that only made them look longer. The leather jacket she wore was shiny, too, though much of the back was covered with her curly hair—hair that lacked its usual sheen but had gained another quality, some added color that seemed to burst against her skin when the sunlight hit it.

Everything about it was very _Katherine_. It was all meant to tease and seduce, and the way her body undulated with every measured step only accentuated the litheness built into her limbs, into her very _being_.

Still, something wasn’t quite right. Something about the way she fiddled with the watch on her wrist, or the tick in her jaw as she muttered something under her breath he couldn’t really catch at this distance. Or maybe it was the angle at which her head tilted when she paused momentarily to gaze out at the passersby, or the curvature of her lip as she gnawed on it in… not anxiety—she seemed almost relaxed despite her impatience—but perhaps trepidation.

Elijah shook his head, pushing off from his perch across the street to be mere feet behind her in less than a second.

“Katerina,” he called, gentle albeit curious.

The woman spun on her heel, startled but graceful nonetheless, and then he saw it. Saw _her_.

Her jaw went a bit slack, a small gasp escaping her, and her eyes blew wide open for a second before she caught herself. The color he’d seen before, the little sunbursts, were the product of red streaks in half of her hair.

His mouth twitched, almost amused, but he reigned it in to a light, pleasant smile.

“Elijah.”

His name fell from her lips in a quiet breath, an unasked question lingering at the edges of her tone. The voice wasn’t Katherine’s, not nearly the right tone or pitch despite the similar timbres, but it didn’t quite fit the woman standing before him, either.

He took a slow step forward and watched as she carefully reassembled the mask she’d been trying for.

Her hands dropped to hang loosely at her sides. She straightened her spine quickly, as if to appear more in control, but he caught the brief glance she sent toward the floor in order to steel herself. Her mouth twisted in a slight moue when she met his gaze once more, and his smirk fought to widen.

Katherine mask firmly in place, she raised a brow and snarked, “You’re a little late, aren’t you?”

His steps slowed for a split second, suspicion churning just below the surface. She couldn’t possibly think she could fool him with this charade, could she? He’d chased her predecessor for five hundred years, been intimately involved with the original Petrova for many months several centuries before that, observed _this_ girl and her little friends for over a year. He may not have recognized the exact differences from across the street, but as she stood before him, startled by his mere presence, how could he _not_ tell who he was dealing with?

Her outfit and makeup may have labeled her as Katherine Pierce, her wide eyes and delicate features a tribute to Katerina Petrova and Tatia before her, but there was no doubt in his mind from the moment she turned to him.

(Her heartbeat may have slowed with her transition into vampirism, but it still skipped the same way. He’d have recognized it anywhere.)

Elena Gilbert stood before him, tall and proud, a fire in her eyes that he could tell she didn’t truly feel.

She must have had a reason for this pretense, but he could think of nothing that would warrant pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Katherine often did this—pretended to be Elena for the sake of one Salvatore or another, or even to save the other girl’s life, he believed—but Elena was far too heartfelt and honest to ever quite pull off the Katherine persona.

Something was wrong, then. Her impression was far too good, the fierceness in her expression falling too flat, the trepidation that froze her limbs too lackluster.

Too strong-willed, too loving and caring, too worried all the time—it all added up to _Elena_ , but none of it matched the woman in front of him. She was definitely the woman he’d met a year ago, but she seemed different. Too different. Elena would never be able to do this, not with how violently _herself_ she’d always been.

Which could only mean that she _wasn’t_ herself. It wasn’t compulsion, that much was clear, and it wasn’t the aftereffects of her transition. Elena Gilbert cared far too much as a human to have such a lack of regard in her immortal state.

And that was it, wasn’t it? It was the only answer.

Elena seemed calm and collected because she _was_ calm and collected. Unafraid. Ruthless, just like Katherine, except she could never be like Katherine unless she’d stopped caring completely.

Elena Gilbert had turned off her humanity.

Now, standing before him, was a shell of the girl he knew—the girl everyone knew. She wasn’t really concerned or anxious or even happy to see him. She’d seamlessly adopted the role she assumed Katherine played in her relationship with him, but without any true emotions as the driving force. Even the fear tightening her limbs was tame compared to what she should have been expressing, whether she was impersonating Katherine or not. After all, they hadn’t spoken since the night of her transformation. Many things had transpired since then, and he was fairly certain that, even given her lack of humanity, she believed he would want her punished for her part in his brother’s death.

He would need to rectify that erroneous thought as soon as she was returned to herself.

Briefly, all of this passing through his mind in the space of an instant as his steps paused, Elijah wondered if Katherine had told her anything before sending her to this meeting. Judging by the startled expression she hadn’t quite wiped from her face, he assumed not. If she didn’t even know who she was meeting, she couldn’t possibly know _why_ they were meeting.

His head tilted only by the slightest degree as he observed her. He could tell her anything, and she would have no idea whether it was the truth or not.

It would, perhaps, be the perfect chance—his only chance—to act on the feelings he had kept so carefully guarded. She may not ever need know, or perhaps he would tell her upon her willingness to proceed.

Depending on the mood, he supposed.

Elena had bit into the inside of her cheek when he paused for the briefest of moments, and he was almost surprised to see the brief flash of panic in her eyes when his suspicion broke out fleetingly. Almost. It would appear her humanity wasn’t buried as far as she would like it to seem. Perhaps she hadn’t even admitted it to herself. Only time would tell.

Elijah reigned his expression in, careful not to show anything but his curiosity. He kept his hands in his pockets as he continued his approach, something he knew she would ultimately see as the sign of faith and trust it was. Though she may not know his deepest secrets, they had always had an understanding when it came to body language—it was inherent, something that they never discussed but always picked up on around each other.

He didn’t quite bother with personal space, though, stopping scarcely a foot away from her to keep with the pretense of her charade. Her heels brought her almost to eyelevel with his cheek, a stark decrease in height difference from when she was wearing flats and came up only to his shoulder (and then only barely).

His head tilted in a bit of wonder, eyes drawn again to the red streaks playing in the sunlight and accentuating the glow of her skin.

“You colored your hair,” he observed, keeping his tone light as he smiled gently.

Impulsive yet deliberate, he reached out, knuckles brushing a featherlight touch across her cheek as his fingers swept her hair back over her shoulder. Elijah caressed the strands for a moment, admiring the bright color against the delicate blush staining her cheeks, before shifting so his palm conformed to her jaw.

She’d stiffened slightly at his touch, head tilting down slightly in that almost-surprise. Her chin bumped against his hand for the briefest of seconds before she looked back up at him and leaned, somewhat unconsciously, into his space.

Elijah’s smile widened when she met his gaze. “I like it,” he said after a moment. A test disguised as a compliment.

Elena just looked at him for a second, what seemed like a thousand thoughts flickering through her mind at the speed of light. Her pause was short-lived, however, and she seemed to shake herself out of her shock and back into her self-imposed persona.

She huffed out a breath, mustering up a cheerful smile that almost reminded him of another.

The day that smile belonged to had quickly turned horrible, but it had started with a breathless greeting and a bright smile behind an open door. He hadn’t been able to resist smiling back, then, and had almost backed out of his plan to force the truth from her. Surely, he could take another minute, another hour, just to enjoy that little smile—a smile that he had received without earning it at all.

But he hadn’t backed out, and her betrayal of his trust had nearly shattered him before he could really comprehend what had happened.

He’d never once truly blamed her for her deceit, or for her actions at all. She had done exactly as he would have; she’d protected her family, as he was forced to protect his own.

It seemed to be a cycle for them, one that he hoped never to have to repeat again. His letter had meant more than the words he wrote, and he wasn’t sure if he hoped she understood the hidden meaning or if he was afraid of the idea that she could have.

This smile was similar to the one she had worn upon opening her door that morning, but it held an edge to it. It was forced, a part of an act, and he could see the lingering trace of Katherine in the twist of her lips.

Lips that he couldn’t help glancing at as she started a slight ramble.

“Thank you,” she said, surprisingly genuine, “it’s actually gonna—”

The bright look that suddenly lit her eyes when he glanced back into them was so lovely and surprising that he couldn’t help but to lean in—to capture that crooked, nearly sincere but not quite, smile against his own mouth.

He caught her mid-sentence, almost mid-word, but his kiss was chaste. A press of lips and not much else. So clearly a first kiss, and he nearly worried she would realize that, that the charade of being Katherine’s lover would shatter beneath his sudden tenderness, before his eyes slid shut and he simply slid his mouth over hers in a delicate touch.

He felt her jolt beneath his lips, beneath the hand he still had tangled in her soft curls—felt her eyelashes flutter and her lips hesitate to return the movement.

The reluctance lasted mere seconds.

Her eyes closed millimeters from his own, eyelashes settling delicately between their cheeks, and she pushed forward gently. Far more gently that Katherine ever would have, and she made no move to deepen the kiss, content to allow him to set the pace.

Elijah smiled against her lips, thumb caressing her cheek before moving down her jaw to her chin to glide over the skin between.

The soft kiss—so soft, slow and sweet and what felt like millennia in the making—lasted for several long moments. An instant and an eternity, a second and a lifetime, both and neither and all at the same time.

(It reminded him of something, really, when he thought of it later—a half-forgotten story his mother used to tell her children when they were small, similar tales caught in snippets through the centuries. Something about reincarnation and love and magic, though the details were murky and too fantastical to put much stock in.)

It was Elijah who pulled away first; again, Elena seemed content to allow him to set the pace.

Their lips were scarcely a millimeter apart before he moved closer once more for a lighter, shorter peck to her soft lips. Then he moved farther away, opening his eyes to look at her, his thumb lingering at the corner of her mouth as her eyes slowly fluttered open.

He nearly smirked when her gaze remained on his own lips for several seconds, a dazed look on her face—slack-jawed with hooded eyes and quickly reddening cheeks—before she composed herself.

His smile, when their eyes met again, was genuine, and he didn’t bother to hide the warmth in his gaze. He watched as she took in his open expression, felt her shoulders relax.

Elijah tapped her chin briefly, affectionately, before dropping both hands to her waist. It was an almost possessive hold, he would admit, his thumbs rubbing small circles into her sides as his palms conformed to the curve of her body. But then again, vampires are notoriously possessive creatures.

Surely now she would know, would gather together the missing pieces and _understand_ what he meant. She always understood. Even when he tried so hard to hide his real meaning from her, she saw right through it, always. Saw through his careful words and stiff body language to the real meaning buried beneath.

Elijah had never, would never, and could never completely hide himself from Elena Gilbert. It would have terrified him, as old and powerful and arrogant as he was, if it wasn’t so damned _thrilling_.

“I missed you,” he murmured, giving her waist a light squeeze.

Elena shifted slightly so that one of her hands was covering his beneath her jacket. He nearly breathed out a sigh of relief when her other hand rose to hover over his heart. Nearly.

Nearly, because that was the moment it all fell apart.

The girl before him seemed to shutter herself off, nose and mouth twisting into some strange amalgamation of cruel Katherine and brave Elena, and he barely caught his own expression before it could drop in disappointment.

Her mouth opened—he braced himself—she took a deep breath—he held his own breath, wondering what she would say in reply—

But nothing came out.

She seemed to choke, in fact, throat locking and tongue curling around syllables that simply weren’t there. Her eyes closed, a grimace forming on her lips, and he didn’t move to stop her as she stepped back—back, back out of his loose hold and across the length of the gazebo until her spine connected with one of the pillars.

Elijah could almost hear her teeth grinding together, could _definitely_ hear her heart suddenly pounding and the rasp of air as she dragged it into her lungs. One of her hands flew to her temple, the other pressing harshly into the side of her ribs, just below her heart, and she took several great, shuddering breaths as she tried to calm herself.

He’d only seen this happen once before—this particular moment, that is, when the door was suddenly forced open—and he almost didn’t catch it.

Then a tear was sliding down her cheek as she looked up at him, dragging a wobbly line of thick mascara along behind it, and her eyes grew so large and scared and hurt and _vulnerable_ …

And he knew.

Somehow, someway, he had managed to get her to turn her emotions back on. His shock must have bled through the guarded expression he had put up when she pulled away, more than likely laced with some of the worry he felt for her, because her next words told him all he really needed to know.

“I’m not Katherine,” she whispered, voice cracking near the end.

And there it was, wasn’t it? The other reason she would never do this when she was completely herself.

He’d been a fool, thinking she would see through his own charade as easily as he had seen through hers. Of course she wouldn’t; emotions or not, there was one thing, one assumption Elena Gilbert had that kept her from understanding him in this instance.

No one had ever been able to tell Elena and Katherine apart before. Not really. Her family and friends hadn’t, those idiot Salvatores hadn’t, the Martin witches hadn’t. Not even Klaus could tell them apart easily these days, though that had more to do with him being lazy and uncaring.

Even Elijah had mistaken Elena for Katerina, that first meeting, though he’d never made the mistake again.

(Not even in that dark cellar, her looming over him with wide, concerned eyes as he gasped for breath. He’d barely seen the girl in front of him, too caught up in remembering the past and trying to explain it all too quickly. The two hadn’t for a second been even remotely the same in his mind.)

He’d made it his mission, in fact, to tell them apart. Not a particularly difficult feat, given the last five centuries he’d spent hunting the first, and the last several months he’d spent loving the younger.

Her assumption, however, blinded her to these facts. She assumed that because those she saw daily couldn’t see the difference, neither would he. It was her greatest fear, to be indistinguishable from her older, darker twin. He’d seen it the day he met her, in that abandoned mansion, and he’d seen it every other time they had been near each other since. She lived in the shadow of her predecessor, and she hated it.

Elena wanted nothing more than to be seen as her own person. She had told him as much, one night all those months ago—almost a year, now.

It hadn’t been uncommon, in those days, for Elijah to keep Elena company in the evening hours. He called it protecting an investment, which it was, but it was more than that. Regardless, most nights, after they had all gathered once again to formulate their plans, Elena was left alone save for him. The Salvatores hardly bothered with protecting her at night, when she was safe in her home, and her aunt and brother were elsewhere much of the time, so it became a regular occurrence for Elijah to knock politely on her door and take a seat at the window to watch over her.

That night, she had told him of her insecurities—though perhaps not in so many words.

_He’d been sitting at her window for several hours, keeping a calm watch over the street below as she finished her homework at her desk. Eventually, she’d retreated to the bathroom to change for bed, though he knew she wouldn’t sleep for another hour yet._

_It was the routine, something that they had done several times a week since brokering their little deal. Even after she had daggered him—and subsequently undaggered him only a week and some days later—it hadn’t taken much to fall back into this pattern._

_Elena would sit in bed and write in her journal, occasionally pausing to ask him some question or other that popped into her head. Usually, he would indulge her curiosity. Sometimes, he couldn’t, but she didn’t push those matters._

_It was one of the many things he’d grown to like about her; she knew when and where challenges were accepted, and when and where she wouldn’t be indulged._

_This was them, on the path to trusting each other—a trust he had nearly destroyed,_ would _have destroyed had she been anyone else, had she not known as well as he the bonds of family and the lengths one would go to protect their loved ones. At that moment, however, they were simply on the path, not quite there yet, and not nearly close enough to the moment of betrayal._

_He heard her pause in her scribbles—by his estimate, after countless minutes if not hours observing her handwriting and page turning, she had covered perhaps one page in her neat script—and waited for the inevitable._

_When nothing came for several minutes, he turned his head to look at her, raising a brow at her blank expression. She wasn’t looking at him. His gaze followed hers, and he blinked when he realized._

_She was looking at herself, her reflection in the standing mirror across from her._

_After another moment, she seemed to notice his gaze on her, and she blinked herself out of her stupor. Her lips twisted briefly before she asked, voice tight, “Do you think I’m—Am I like Katherine?”_

_Elijah had stiffened, glancing just to the side of her face. “You both are the Doppelgänger,” he said flatly._

_“No, I—”_

_She huffed, frustrated, and closed her journal. Setting it aside, she ran a hand through her hair, taking a calming breath._

_“Other than looks,” she’d clarified quietly, tensely. “If—I—If you didn’t know what I look like, if I looked like someone else, would I still… have something in common with her? Personality-wise, I guess.”_

_He’d paused, taking the time to truly contemplate the question before giving her his honest answer._

_“I don’t know.” He met her eyes. “I knew her as a human for longer than I have known her, cumulatively, as a vampire. As a human, yes. You both have or had a certain quality within you, a bravery and pure heart that withstood many injustices and much damage. As she is now, I cannot say.” He’d tilted his head, considering her for a moment before adding, “I do not think you would betray anyone for your own sake—that you would be as selfish as she has been for the last five hundred years, as self-serving as she was when she betrayed myself and Rose and Trevor to save her own life. That’s the difference I have seen. I know neither of you well enough to determine any similarities.”_

_Elena hadn’t said anything for a long moment. Her once open expression and trusting eyes had become shuttered to him, and he knew it was not the answer she had hoped for. She accepted it as the truth—the only truth he could give her—but she had clearly hoped for something else._

_After a minute, she nodded, looking down at her hands twisting in her duvet. “I… I worry that I am doomed to become her,” she said softly. “Or maybe not—I am my own person, and I would never let myself sink to that level, but…”_

_She’d shrugged, glancing at the wall and hugging her knees to her chest._

_“I guess what I really worry about is… is that everyone will always compare us or confuse us, and if I can be so easily confused as her, then—then how can I claim to be anything else? How can I say that I’m any different from her, when the people who love me can confuse her for me, and the people that once loved her only ever compare me to the one they used to know?”_

_Elijah didn’t have a response to her questions. He wished he did—desperately so, in that moment—despite knowing they weren’t meant to have real answers. They were just the ramblings of a lost teenage girl, desperate to find herself and define the line between her and the woman she shared a body with._

_The hollow, lost, anxiety ridden look in her eyes nearly broke something in him._

_It reminded him of a girl he knew before he became a vampire. She’d been broken, too, though in a much different way, and he had nearly killed the man that caused her pain had Finn not stopped him from getting too involved. Later, he had made sure the man suffered greatly at his hands, and he had taken her far away, to a southern village, and given her everything she and her child could deserve and more._

_Like her, the woman’s descendants had each been good friends to him throughout the centuries._

_And now that hopeless look was on Elena’s face, and he was helpless, because there was no one man or monster, no physical pain with one singular cause._

_She must have seen something on his face—some hesitance or irritation—because she quickly closed herself off again, locking the insecurities away. Her smile was small and brave and utterly, absolutely_ fake _as she said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up… your past, or anything. I—”_

_She’d swallowed against whatever words were fighting to come out. There were times he remembered the pinch of her brow and the tightening of her mouth and wondered what else she might have said. But all she did then was shake her head and move to lie down, pulling the covers up to her chin and hugging a pillow to her chest._

_“Thank you, Elijah,” she whispered before reaching to turn off her bedside lamp. “For your honesty. And for being here. You didn’t have to, and—and I appreciate it. I didn’t really want to be alone.”_

_As always, he would stay until she fell asleep, perhaps even until it was nearing time for her to ready herself for school in the morning. With how he felt now, in the dark with her questions hanging in the air by his ears, it was looking to be a long night._

_“Of course, Elena,” he’d replied, almost automatic. “Always.”_

In the present, here and now, Elena’s eyes flashed with something—pain, irritation, confusion, something—as his silence lengthened.

“I’m not Katherine,” she repeated after a long moment, tone harsher as her eyes narrowed in a pointed glare.

Elijah only tilted his head, taking a slow step toward her.

Try as he might, he knew there was no chance of hiding all of his concern and curiosity from her. It was all moving too fast, and the two of them had always been far too open and honest with each other. Even if he tried to keep himself closed off, she would no doubt see through it.

She always had.

Right now, though, he was more worried than inquisitive. Specifically, he was worried about her psyche and the damage that had clearly been dealt to it over the last several years.

Somehow, she had convinced herself that no one would ever be able to tell the difference between Katherine and herself, to the point that she had missed every sign he had given her. She honestly believed that there was no single person on the Earth that would see her for who she was and not for the woman who shared her face. If she had had any belief in anyone knowing the difference, she would have known instantly that he would be the one to do so.

It was sad to think, but he couldn’t linger on it for long. He needed to say something before she was pulled under the waves of her emotions completely.

“I know,” he settled on.

Then he watched as she froze—could almost hear the proverbial record-scratching, tire-squealing _halt_ to her thoughts. Her eyes were once again blank, emotions swimming just below the surface, closer this time but abated for the moment in the face of her surprise.

“You—” She stuttered, unable to continue.

Elijah nodded, repeating slowly, “I know. I knew the moment you turned around—though I had my suspicions from across the street.” His smile was almost _entertained_ , though he couldn’t stop the slightly concerned twitch to his brow. “The shoes were a nice touch,” he mused, gently teasing.

It seemed to startle her yet again, and Elena choked on a laugh. The surprised mirth didn’t last long, however, before she fell to her knees with a sob.

“Oh, God—Oh, God, what have I done?” she cried, voice breaking again.

Quickly, as she looked down at the slatted floor of the gazebo, he moved to kneel at her side.

“What did I do?” Elena continued with another sobbing inhale. “What did I _do_?”

Elijah touched his hand to her back, gently rubbing along her spine in soothing circles before reaching with his other hand to cup her cheek. Nearly grimacing at what he knew needed to be done, he tilted her head back and to the side until she was forced to meet his gaze.

He knew she wasn’t wearing any vervain jewelry. He doubted she had consumed any recently, either, or he would have smelled it in her blood earlier. Given the way she stiffened when their gazes met, he’d wager he was right in that assessment.

Elijah ran his thumb across her cheek to collect the tears there, sending her a reassuring smile. “Calm down.” It was a quiet, tender order, and his expression was soft as he watched the compulsion wash over her.

It was nearly instantaneous; her heart rate slowed, breath evening out into a smooth rhythm. He moved his hand on her cheek back to comb gentle fingers through her hair. It seemed to soothe her further, and his smile twitched up further despite the situation they were now in.

“You’ve abandoned your emotions for too long, Elena,” he explained.

No vampire was ever supposed to shut them off completely, and even if they did, it was only supposed to be for short bursts—never weeks or months on end. And Elena had always had the biggest heart, the most compassionate soul of any human or vampire he had ever known; the more emotions one normally felt, the worse the effects of long-term avoidance would be. She should never have been allowed to turn them off in the first place, and he suspected it had not been of her own volition.

“You’re feeling them all at once, now,” Elijah continued, keeping his voice gentle but firm. He wouldn’t compel her again; he was hesitant to force her to calm down, but it was clear she needed a grounding force, and he would provide if he could. “Everything from the last several weeks or months, it would seem.” He paused. “When did you turn it off?”

“J—January,” she ground out. “Jeremy… It was a m—month ago.” She blinked hard against the tears gathering in her eyes. “Wh—Why are you h—helping me?”

It brought him up short. She must know, at this point, shouldn’t she? After so many months, after all their deals, after that kiss—

How could she not?

But then… she’d never had much confidence in others’ feelings for her. The real question was whether or not he could answer her without giving it all away or making it unbearably awkward for her when she inevitably had to express her distaste.

Elijah paused for only the briefest of seconds before sighing and leaning his forehead against hers.

Rather than answer her question, he murmured a quiet, “Shh.” He felt her hand come up to hold his against her cheek. “It’s alright,” he continued after a moment. “It can be overwhelming, at first, to suddenly have it all back. The sensations and sudden stimulation may be too much, and it will destroy you if you let it.” He pressed further into her space until she met his gaze. “You must not let it destroy you, Elena.”

Her breath gave these little hitches—hiccupping gasps the result of heavy sobbing—but her voice itself was even, flat, as she spoke. “How do I stop it?” she asked with a sniffle. “I… What do I do?”

Elijah felt his expression relax, a small smile gathering at the corner of his mouth, when she looked up at him with those wide, pleading brown eyes. This wasn’t the result of compulsion.

This was _trust_. Trust like they’d both betrayed time and time again, only to fall back into it once the battle was over. Trust like the kind he had wanted to regain by a letter that said nothing and everything all at once. Trust, there in her eyes, like he’d seen before.

In her bedroom, the first time they made a deal, before they really knew each other.

In the Salvatores’ cellar, a dagger in her hand.

At the Lockwood estate, as he told her the story of his family, then the truth of the Curse; as she gave her word to return, and then later, when he told her he had a way to save her life.

In her bedroom again, as she asked her questions.

When he saved her from his sister, the two of them falling back on easy patterns even after months of separation.

When he cornered her in the hall of his family’s home, as close to begging as he ever had been when he asked her to tell him what his mother said.

When he asked her out of her house, wanting to show her the land he used to know.

When he asked for his brother’s body, giving his word he would not wake him.

And now, her eyes shiny with tears, blood vessels healing too quickly for any real redness to form, her face flushed and breath heaving and heartbeat steady—so steady—beneath his compulsion.

The hand he had in her hair moved down to gently cup her cheek, thumb resting beneath her chin, right against her pulse. Her eyes fluttered slightly, relaxing into his touch.

“Focus on something,” Elijah suggested after a moment. “Just one emotion, one feeling.” Her eyes were locked on his, absorbing every word like it was holy writ, and his knuckles glided against the side of her throat in a soothing motion. A thought struck him, and he hesitated for hardly a breath before voicing it. “An event, even—an important one. Let it come up to the surface, above all the others. Just that one. The one thing that makes you who you are, that gives you something to live for.”

Elena swallowed, the motion thick and slow beneath his palm, and took a breath. A small crease formed on her brow as she concentrated for a moment. Tears poured more forcefully down her cheeks even as the rest of her remained mostly calm.

The compulsion wouldn’t last much longer—as soon as she let something break through to the forefront of her mind, it would shatter the illusion of calm.

Elijah would be there to catch her. If she would let him.

“I—I can’t,” she muttered, eyes wide and searching. Her breath shook and shuddered, making her words wobble as they passed her lips. “It’s too much, I—”

“Yes, you can,” Elijah said, firm. “Yes, you _can_ , Elena. Focus. Let it in.”

His thumb stroked the apple of her cheek as he gazed intently into her shining, dark eyes until all of her focus was on him.

“You just need to let it in,” he continued. “Let it drown out all the other thoughts and memories and emotions. Then you can slowly let more in, one at a time.”

Elena nodded, closing her eyes. She seemed to be forcing the air in and out of her lungs, nearly hyperventilating.

“I—” She sniffled. “I messed up. I almost killed my friends, I—oh, God, Jeremy—”

“Shh. Just focus.”

When her eyes opened, she was still crying, but it was slowing down to a manageable level.

“My brother’s dead,” she whispered. “He’s dead, and I—I miss him so much, oh, God.” Elena shuddered a breath. “It hurts so much, I—why did they make me do that?”

Her eyes were wide when she looked up at him, and he couldn’t quite wipe the frown from his face in time.

It would seem the Salvatores had done more harm than he’d thought. Given what both Katherine and his brothers had told him, Damon was at least in part to blame for much of the tragedy that had occurred the last several months, intentional or not. If the stories were true, some of it would now be rectified, but…

Even so, Elijah worried about Elena in all of this. Sire bonds were tricky things, as rare as they were, and a Doppelgänger with a sire bond? Who knew just how much it had influenced her, even without her or the others knowing.

He was hopeful, however, that she would recover. She was the strongest, bravest, most caring person he knew. She would make it through. As he looked into her eyes, he was sure that she would return to herself in due time.

There was heartbreak there in her gaze, and betrayal—sadness, fear, an aching loneliness he could almost feel in his bones. There was trust, too, though, for himself, as he felt her lean further into his embrace. Elena would trust him to catch her, see her through this hurricane of emotions back to steady ground. He hadn’t even had to give his word, but something in his expression must have been just as good as anything for her.

“How could they do that to me?” she sobbed. “After everything they did to make sure I had a choice—and then they made me do that. They took my choice—how _could they_?”

Elijah let her fall into his chest as she cried, rubbing circles into her back as he soothed her. His fingers buried themselves in her hair, combing through it slowly.

“Shh, Elena,” he murmured, relieved, lips at her temple. He kissed her there, listened as her breath hitched with one sob after another, compulsion broken and emotions roaming free. “Easy, darling.”

She shifted slightly, straightening to throw her arms around his neck and burrow into his shoulder. He let his arms tighten around her, keeping her close.

“It’s alright,” he sighed softly, words muffled slightly by her hair. “You’re going to be alright. Just let it in.”

It took less than a thought for him to move both of them to the bench nearby. The girl in his arms didn’t hesitate to wind her arms tighter around his neck and bury her face in his collar as she sobbed.

Elijah tightened his hold on her, sighing softly as she all but crawled into his lap. “Shh,” he murmured. “Everything is going to be okay…”

“It hurts,” Elena whimpered. “God, everything—it all hurts so much.”

“I know.” Elijah drew steady fingers over her hair. “Just relax. Try to sort through it. I’m right here.”

Her arms tightened minutely around him. “Don’t leave,” she breathed as her sobs threatened to take over again. “Please don’t leave me, _please_.”

“Shh,” he soothed. “Shh, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

It took some time—long minutes or hours, time once again meaningless in their little bubble of space—before Elena calmed down, sobs quieting and breaths evening out. Elijah held her throughout, murmuring to her supportively and ignoring (read: not really caring about) the patch of wet he could feel growing on his shirt collar. At some point, she did actually shift further into his arms until she was almost fully in his lap, but he didn’t particularly care about that, either, so he just held her tighter.

It was the first time he’d had her willingly in his arms since the night she daggered him more than a year before, and he quietly savored it. The way her body relaxed into his, utterly faithful and unquestioning, her delicate fingers gripping his shoulder to pull him closer whenever he shifted the slightest bit, the warm skin of her cheek when it brushed against his throat briefly. It was all he’d ever wanted, but it was tainted by the pain he felt rolling off of her in waves.

All he really wanted was to shield her from the rest of the world, take her pain away until she gave him that bright smile, kill anyone who threatened to hurt her or damage her self-esteem so much ever again. Barring that, he’d settle for teaching those moronic brothers a lesson and keeping her safe and content until she could decide for herself the path she wished to take.

Elijah hoped beyond reason that he’d be on that path. He wouldn’t say he was in love with her—at least not out loud—but holding her as he was, and the way they had kissed… it wasn’t accurate to say he _wasn’t_ in love with her, either. The delight that had raced through him upon seeing her face instead of Katherine’s was almost enough to convince him of his own feelings.

Elena shifted, breaking him from his thoughts. His grip on her loosened, allowing her the space she needed, and he felt the heat on her face as she moved to sit beside him. Slowly, carefully, as if afraid to make any sudden movements, she retracted her arms from around his shoulders. Still, despite her trepidation, she seemed unable to go far, and ended up tucked into his side, looking down at her hands in her lap as she straightened the hem of her dress.

“How are you feeling?” Elijah asked, gentle. She straightened immediately, mouth opening, and he squeezed her shoulder to cut her off. “The truth, please.”

Elena was quiet for a long moment before sagging slightly, her head landing against his shoulder once more. “It hurts,” she whispered, broken. “It’s like I forgot everything that happened, and now all the doors are open.”

He nodded. “Would you like to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

Then she nodded and blurted, “I tried to kill Caroline.” She sniffled. “I… I turned it off because—because Jeremy…”

“What happened?”

Of course he knew what happened, but he wasn’t caught up on all the details. Besides, she clearly needed to talk through it, even if she seemed reluctant to do so.

“We were searching for the Cure,” Elena told him, voice quiet. “Stefan and Damon… they insisted that I needed it. That it was the only way I would be able to live. The only way to break the sire bond.” Her gaze flickered up to meet his briefly before she turned away again. “You… You know about the sire bond, right?”

Elijah nodded. “Niklaus informed me soon after it was discovered,” he murmured. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I hadn’t realized it was so dire, or I would have come to help you.”

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t have let you, and if Damon told me it was a bad idea…” She sighed. “It’s alright, Elijah. You had other things to worry about. I would never have expected you to…”

Another shake of her head, this time to clear her thoughts. He wanted so badly to correct her, correct this notion that he wouldn’t have done everything in his power to help her had she needed it, but that wasn’t the point of this particular conversation.

“Anyway, Jeremy became a Hunter—one of the Five—and we knew that we needed to finish his tattoo if we wanted to find the Cure. But later we found out it was more complicated than that, and—but anyway we thought we needed the Hunter’s Mark, so that’s why…” She swallowed, going rigid beside him, and her voice came back in stutters. “It’s why—It’s why Jer—It’s why we—I—we killed Kol.”

Elena clapped a hand over her mouth, spine curling in as she stifled more sobs. Elijah felt his jaw tighten; as much as he understood that all was not as it seemed, it still hurt to think that his younger brother was gone forever. He didn’t blame her, despite her obvious assumption to the contrary, but it was something they would need to work through.

“He compelled Damon,” she sobbed. “He compelled him to kill Jeremy so that we wouldn’t find the Cure, and the only way to break the compulsion was to kill him, and then he was coming after us, anyway, and he had the stake and—oh, God, Elijah, I’m so sorry.”

Her cries only increased, nearly hysterical, and he drew her closer to his chest, rubbing her back soothingly.

“It was my idea,” she wept. “It killed everyone in his sireline, finished Jeremy’s tattoo, and we could get the Cure and Damon was free but—but it was my idea, Elijah, and I’m so _sorry_.”

“Shh.” Elijah combed a hand through her hair. “I believe you. You were trying to help Damon, save your brother.”

“I killed yours.”

He fought to keep his expression even, voice tight as he said, “Family, Elena. I’ve told you, we have always understood each other on this matter.”

As angry as he was, as upset as he was with her involvement in his youngest brother’s death, he couldn’t hold any of it against her. It was too hard to do so, especially when he had betrayed her time and time again for the exact same reasons. Especially when she was here, in his arms, perfectly and sincerely apologetic. Elena knew what she’d done, regretted it with her very soul, and seemed ready to accept a punishment he would never enforce.

Even if he didn’t know the true circumstances—the search for the Cure, the influence of the sire bond, and everything in between—he wasn’t sure he could ever blame her for doing whatever it took to protect the ones she loved.

Rather than dwell, he nudged her shoulder and prodded her gently, “What happened, when the Mark was completed?”

Elena sniffled, shaking her head. “We—We went to this island where Silas was supposed to be buried. Me, Jeremy, Stefan, Damon, Rebekah, Bonnie, and Shane. And Katherine, too, apparently—she…”

The girl coughed, choking on tears.

“She convinced Bonnie and Jeremy she was me, went with them to free Silas, and then she—she forced Jeremy to Silas, and he—” more sniffling “—he fed on Jeremy so he could wake up. She killed my brother, Elijah. Silas broke his neck, but—but she killed him when she did that, and—I _hate her_ , Elijah.”

A sob tore itself from her chest, sudden and violent to the point he would have expected her to cough up blood had she been human.

Elena moved, quickly, shaking his hand from her shoulder to shed the jacket she was wearing, tossing it to the ground.

“I hate her!” she repeated.

The shoes followed, clattering against each other as they landed on the jacket, and then she threw her jewelry—bracelet, watch, earrings torn from her skin so quickly her ears bled for a second before healing—on top of the pile.

“I hate her.” It was quieter, more of a sob than a statement, and she curled her arms tightly around her middle as if to hold herself together. “I hate her.”

“I know,” Elijah said after a moment, bringing her close again. One of her hands came up to clench in the lapel of his jacket as she leaned heavily into his side. “Elena… I know.”

He ground his teeth, waiting for the inevitable. It couldn’t be far off, not with the path her emotions had begun to take.

She didn’t disappoint, turning to look at him suddenly. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears, face streaked with mascara, and she breathed through her mouth more than her nose for the sake of the snot threatening to spill. Despite her vampirism, she’d never looked more human than in that moment, and it twisted something in his chest to know that the people who were supposed to care about her were the ones to hurt her in this way.

“How can no one realize?” Her voice broke on every other syllable. “Are we really that similar? Am I turning into her?” A hiccupping sob. “Why is it so easy for people to confuse us? How can they say they love me when—when they don’t even know me from _her_?”

Elijah shook his head, cupping her cheek in his hands. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, smearing the runny makeup further across her skin.

“They love you, Elena,” he murmured gently. “And you are nothing like Katherine, no matter what happens or what others may think.” He sighed. “Katherine is… very adept at manipulation. She’s had five hundred years to perfect her acting skills. She fooled me into believing she had changed; I had no idea she had killed your brother, abandoned you to her same fate.”

Her eyes slipped closed, and she leaned into his touch. “I’m sorry, Elijah,” she whispered. “You don’t deserve these things that have happened—what I did, or Kol’s death, or Katherine… betraying your trust again. I’m just… sorry.”

Elijah couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Oh, Elena,” he breathed. “Lovely Elena… everything is going to be alright.”

She released a shuddering sigh as he retreated slightly, pressing closer to him and resting her cheek on his shoulder. For a few long minutes, she simply rested, calming herself. He handed her a handkerchief, and she smiled her thanks as she dried her face and nose gently.

Elena sighed once she’d removed the last of her makeup from its smudging beneath her eyes, folding the square of cloth between her hands and leaning into him again.

“Elijah?” Her voice was quiet, small, like she expected to be denied.

“Yes?”

“Will you…” Elena swallowed thickly, sniffling slightly as she took a breath. “Can I… I just—I can’t be around them right now,” she finally blurted. “I… I trust you. Can you help me? Will you… Will you just—stay with me?”

“Of course,” Elijah replied.

Simple. Obvious. She sighed in relief.

He pulled away for a moment to shrug out of his suit jacket, putting it around her shoulders. She didn’t need it for warmth, being a vampire, but he hoped it would give her some comfort as she worked through her thoughts. She didn’t seem to want to leave his side, and her expression and body language was slowly beginning to stiffen, showing signs of circulatory shock from all the turmoil she’d been through since he arrived.

Elena seemed grateful for the comfort, slipping her arms through the sleeves of his jacket and pulling it around her tightly. Elijah pulled her close once more, letting her wrap her arms around him as she buried her nose into the collar of his button-down.

“As long as you need—or want,” he continued in a murmur. “I’ll be right here. I won’t let anyone take you or force you to do anything ever again.”

Elena nodded against him. “Thank you,” she sighed.

“Always.”

 _And forever,_ he didn’t say. That could wait.

For now, he had two brothers and another Doppelgänger to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Regard to the Memory Scene in Chapter Two:
> 
> It takes place AFTER the 2x19 scenes at the Lockwood Mansion but BEFORE the events of 2x20 with Elena’s breakdown over becoming a vampire.
> 
> I know that TECHNICALLY canon has those two events as being two back-to-back days, but that never made sense to me, just because that would mean Klaus was in Alaric’s body for a couple (2-3) days, then in his own body for only one before being TOTALLY OKAY with moving on with the sacrifice? Which doesn’t match his characterization?
> 
> Like, I get it, he’s been planning for centuries, so he has the process down to a science-–but Klaus is SURPRISINGLY PLAN-ORIENTED and doesn’t really like it when things stray from his plan, so I feel like he would have been in town for longer than that. Like, he had to be–-no way was he just there for MAYBE four days and was like “cool let’s do this”. It just seems SLOPPY, which Klaus really ISN'T, no matter how he behaves.
> 
> Soooo in this AU (which I really think should be canon but I digress), there was actually about a week between the Elejah not-date at the Lockwood Mansion and the actual day/night of the sacrifice. (As a side project, I’m working on a calendar for TVD/TO, because some stuff just doesn’t make sense and I need clarity lol)
> 
> Anyway, sorry for any confusion–-this little change will come up again, and soon, so watch for that :)


	3. Rebekah, Katherine, and the Sidekicks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all just bicker, bicker, bicker, as usual, and it was grating on Rebekah’s nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, Diner 4x18 American Gothic

Rebekah had been waiting with Katherine for over an hour before the Salvatores decided to show their faces.

Once they did, it didn’t take the brutish children long to make their demands. They wanted the Cure, they wanted Elena’s location, and, more specifically, they wanted both of those things to be in the same place so that they could force the young Doppelgänger to return to her fragile, pathetic human self. Typical.

After that announcement, it was all just _bicker, bicker, bicker,_ as usual, and it was grating on Rebekah’s nerves.

“So let me get this straight,” she drawled, cutting off whatever retort Stefan had been about to make. “I tell you where Elena is, you shove the Cure down her throat, and then I end up in a box, right?” She smirked humorlessly, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. If Elena wanted the Cure, she wouldn’t be trying so hard to avoid the two of you—the way I see it, the two of you have control issues to rival that of my brothers, and it’s not your _ex_ -girlfriend’s fault for wanting to stay away.”

Next to her, as Stefan glared in frustration and Damon’s jaw worked around a protest he couldn’t quite articulate, Katherine hid a smile behind her hair and set her sights firmly on the worn wood of the tabletop. Damon was the next to notice, and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“What about you over there, smiley?” he asked, sugary sweet. “Do _you_ know where she is?”

“I can give you a hint.” The Doppelgänger’s lips twisted in a mockingly sympathetic smile. “Start by looking at the town morgue. She’s probably dead.”

They all just looked at her, and Katherine rolled her eyes.

“She went to meet up with a friend of mine,” she told Damon. Her grin turned sly as her gaze slid between him and his brother. “You may know him—an Original brother, _impeccable_ taste.”

Rebekah’s eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide in surprise as her mouth twisted in revulsion. “Elijah?”

Katherine just grinned, and Damon’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Elijah’s here?” he groaned.

“Well, you sort of have to question Elijah’s _impeccable taste_ if he’s friends with you,” Stefan mocked.

“Oh,” Katherine purred. “When I say friend, I mean _friend_.”

Her brow moved suggestively, and the other three groaned, disgusted.

Rebekah’s stomach lurched as she turned away from the woman. It couldn’t be true—or, if it was, it was either new enough that Katherine was misinterpreting Elijah’s actions, or Katherine was playing him. Either way, it wouldn’t last for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being Elijah’s feelings for a certain _descendent_ of Katherine’s.

 _If she thinks my brother would ever choose her over Elena,_ the blonde thought, _she’ll be sorely disappointed._

“It probably took him about—mmm—ten seconds to realize that she wasn’t me,” Katherine continued, smirk morphing into a large, bright smile with a wicked edge, “at which point he probably yanked her heart right out of her chest.”

“Fine,” Stefan sighed. “You said they were meeting, right? Where are they?”

The woman just smiled and tilted her head, eyes wide and innocent as she bat her lashes. Of _course_ she would refuse to tell them where they were. Why Stefan even asked her was a mystery.

The younger Salvatore had just turned to Rebekah with a calculating look, mouth opening around her name, when the little tin bell above the diner’s swinging door chimed.

“Hello,” a smooth, familiar voice greeted them from the entry. “I believe you are looking for us?”


	4. Survival of the Fittest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She sighed. “Yes, Elijah, I—killed Jeremy Gilbert.” She sneered as she met his gaze. “A bombshell I’m sure Elena just couldn’t wait to drop on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, 4x18 American Gothic, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Protective Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine is in Denial, Manipulative Katherine

All four of the booth’s occupants stared at them, wide-eyed in shock and disdain, when they walked through the door of the diner.

Elena was still wearing Elijah’s jacket. In her hands was a bundle of cloth with Katherine’s shoes and jewelry tucked inside the leather jacket. She hadn’t seemed to notice that she was walking barefoot through the town; if Elijah had been anyone else, he would have worried for her mental state, but with the day she’d had, it was a moot point anyway.

As the stares continued, Elena shuffled further under Elijah’s arm, half-curling into his side with her forehead against his shoulder, partly for some sort of comfort or security and partly in sheer exhaustion. His arm tightened around her as they moved further into the restaurant.

Damon was out of his seat—vaulting over the back of the booth in his impatience—and standing in front of her too fast for human, though none of the diner’s patrons seemed to notice or mind.

“Elena,” he said.

It wasn’t a greeting, and it wasn’t a question. His voice wasn’t filled with relief or accusation or even affection. It was just her name.

Damon reached for her hand, and Elena jerked back, shaking her head violently.

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t—” Her eyes shot to the Original hugging her close. “Elijah, please, I—I can’t.”

Elijah nodded down at her, expression grim as he straightened to his full height and shifted to half-shield her with his body. He stared pointedly at Damon’s outstretched hand until the man dropped it with narrowed eyes.

“I understand that you are the reason Elena turned her emotions off,” the Original said stiffly.

She’d told him as much, when he’d asked on their way to the diner, though she seemed confused as to why that was the case. A product of the sire bond, no doubt—it was almost a form of compulsion, in a way, though it was much subtler.

Damon glared at him. “She was suffocating under the grief of losing her brother,” he said, his voice tight. “It would have destroyed her.”

“She’s much stronger than you give her credit for,” Elijah replied, tone clipped. “You made no attempt at any other solution.”

“We did what we could,” Stefan said, standing from the table. He stared at Elijah’s arm around his ex-girlfriend. “It wasn’t my first choice, but it needed to be done.”

“We’ll never know, will we?” Elijah mused casually. “Whether it was your intention or not, you took that option away from her.”

His gaze shifted.

“Katherine. Trade your clothes back with Elena. We need to have a little chat.” He looked at his sister. “Rebekah.” She raised a brow when he held up a small card. “Take Elena back to my hotel to freshen up and change. I’ll come to collect you both shortly.”

Rebekah moved to protest, but his pointed stare convinced her otherwise. She sighed and appeared by Elena’s elbow. “Come on, let’s go.”

Elena looked up at Elijah, suddenly panicked, and her fingers twisted sharply in the fabric of his shirt. He only smiled encouragingly and effortlessly loosened her grip, smoothing a thumb across her cheek affectionately.

The others stared, varying degrees of shock (Stefan), disdain (Rebekah), fury (Damon), or a combination of the three (Katherine) on their faces, as Elijah leaned in to kiss first her cheek and then her forehead.

“Go,” he murmured, trading her off onto his sister’s arm. “I’ll see you soon. You have my word.”

Elena nodded and leaned against Rebekah as the two moved back toward the booth.

Katherine glowered at her Doppelgänger as they exchanged clothes once more. She reached out and snatched her things from the girl’s weak grasp; Elena didn’t even flinch, eyes unfocused and staring.

The darker twin scoffed as she replaced her earrings. “Pathetic,” she spat. “And to think, for a second there you had real potential.”

Rebekah had her by the throat in a blink. “Shut the hell up, Katherine,” she hissed, “before I make you.”

“Rebekah,” Elijah warned.

The blonde sighed and released her, linking arms with Elena. “We’re going,” she grumbled.

Once they disappeared from the restaurant, Elijah straightened his tie and vamped to sit next to Katherine, blocking her in. He looked at the Salvatore brothers and gestured across the table.

“Sit,” he said. “Or leave. Either way, I’ve come to an agreement with the lovely Elena, and neither of you will be seeing her again until she wishes it so. She’s made it quite clear she no longer trusts you—or, indeed, any of your little group.”

Damon fumed. “What the hell—”

Elijah’s glare silenced him, and the Original raised a brow pointedly. “Yes, as I’ve said, Elena trusts few right now, and in her fragile state she will need those she _trusts_. At the moment, that includes only myself and to some extent my sister, and until that changes, none of you will be permitted to see or touch her.” He sat back in his seat, perfectly calm and relaxed. “So—sit or leave. The choice is yours.”

He watched them debate it for a moment. The two shared a look before Stefan shook his head. Damon scoffed and grimaced, throwing his hands in the air before shooting one last glare at the Original and disappearing. Stefan gave Katherine a final, curious glance before following him.

Elijah turned to the woman beside him, silent through the exchange, and said bluntly, “You killed Jeremy Gilbert.”

Katherine’s eyes went wide in surprise, mouth dropping open slightly before closing with a snap.

She sighed. “Yes, Elijah, I—killed Jeremy Gilbert.” She sneered as she met his gaze. “A bombshell I’m sure Elena just couldn’t _wait_ to drop on you.” Her head tilted in thought as she squinted and pursed her lips. “It does make me curious, though,” she mused with a slight smirk. “Did she bring it up after she flipped her switch? Or was she so bitterly jealous when she found out about us that it didn’t matter that she supposedly didn’t care about anything?”

“ _I_ care,” Elijah replied, ignoring the misleading nature of the question.

Katherine knew very well that this would have been their first formal meeting to discuss both the Cure and their relationship. Insinuating that they were committed to each other romantically was only a mechanism.

His expression turned incredulous. “Do you honestly feel nothing for her?” he demanded. “A girl fated to live the same life that you’ve endured? And now you’ve taken away the last of her family, just as yours was taken away from you.”

Katherine blinked, taken aback. “Why are you looking at me like I _enjoyed_ it?” she asked, voice high and tight.

He shook his head, looking down as he straightened the cuff of his shirtsleeve. “Did you?”

“ _No_ ,” she defended with a glare. “Jeremy was collateral damage—I was doing what I needed to do to survive.”

Elijah snapped a look at her. “Is that what _I_ am to you? A means of survival?”

Katherine shook her head in denial. “Don’t,” she begged, “don’t let sweet little _Elena_ get to you. She _hates_ me.” She glared, teeth bared in frustration. “Why are you even listening to her?” she demanded. “After what she did to you—to your brother? And Jeremy, too. You should be glad he’s dead, not letting Elena off the hook and letting her turn you against me—convince you that I can’t be trusted. Like she’s any better.”

His face remained impassive as she defended herself. “I asked you a question,” he said, emphasizing the words.

“ _No_ ,” she repeated immediately. Her expression softened. “Of course you’re not a means of survival,” she continued, leaning closer as her voice dropped in earnest. “You looked out for me when I had no one. You’re giving me a second chance now when no one else will.”

Katherine reached over to cup his cheek as she insisted, “I love you.”

He looked down briefly before moving away from the touch. He shook his head, staring at a spot over her shoulder as his jaw tightened.

“Elijah?” Her hand retreated, and she frowned. “You don’t believe me,” she realized.

“I don’t,” he agreed. He met her gaze once more. “I want to—just as I wanted to believe that you’d changed, before I saw Elena today, before I learned of your latest deceit. It’s my disease. I just keep wanting to believe you.” His eyes were hard. “But how can I, when at every turn, you give me reason to doubt you?”

Katherine opened her mouth to defend herself, but he jerked his chin in an abortive movement, and she closed it again.

“I don’t know you,” he mused. A soft, humorless chuckle slipped out. “I’m not entirely convinced I ever have or ever will.”

He stood and faced her.

“You have lied to me for the last time, Katerina,” he said blandly.

“Wait!”

Her hand caught his arm before he could turn away. Her mouth opened, shaping words whose sounds were caught in her throat.

Finally, she blurted, “You gave me your word that you would talk to Klaus.” She shook her head, eyes wide and scared. “I—I can’t make a deal without you.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Elijah didn’t give a verbal reply. Instead, he looked at her hand on his arm pointedly until she removed it with a shocked and devastated expression playing across her features.

“Goodbye, Katherine,” he said stiffly.

Then he turned and walked away without another glance.


	5. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She rolled her eyes. “He’s in love with you, you moron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Rebekah Mikaelson, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, 4x18 American Gothic, Protective Rebekah Mikaelson, Rebekah is So Done with Elejah’s Shit, Forgiveness

Rebekah deposited Elena on the sofa in the sitting room of Elijah’s hotel chambers before disappearing back outside. The door locked behind her, but Elena hardly noticed.

The Original sister could have been gone for minutes or hours, but it felt like barely a second before she eased onto the couch and leaned in to catch Elena’s gaze. The younger girl looked dazed, vacant, out of it, and her fingers were methodically clenching and unclenching in the fabric of Elijah’s suit jacket; besides the fact she was much thinner than him, the sleeves were far too long on her, and her fingertips only barely reached the inside of the cuffs.

Rebekah huffed and shoved a plastic bag into her hands. “I thought small towns were supposed to be filled with polite, charming people,” she said, bitter, her nose wrinkling slightly in disdain, “but it would appear our car was hijacked. I got you a new outfit at the store. Jeans and a tunic, nothing too fancy, but the fabric should be nice enough for your enhanced senses.”

Elena didn’t respond, but she took the offered bag between her hands, crumpling the plastic in her fingers.

“Toothpaste and a hairbrush, too,” Rebekah added when she didn’t move. “I think the bedroom has an ensuite.”

Finally, her companion nodded and stood up. “Thank you,” she murmured, tone flat, before disappearing further into the room.

A minute later, the shower started, and Rebekah sighed as she flopped back on the couch.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Half an hour later, Elena sat in a chair by the window, fluffing her hair with a soft, grey towel to dry it while staring down at the street below. Pedestrians milled about in the late afternoon sun, chattering cheerfully as they went about their day. The traffic light on the corner nearest the hotel went straight from green to red, and she heard the tires of several cars squeal in protest at the sudden halt.

Behind her, Rebekah flipped through a magazine. She wasn’t actually reading it; for one thing, it was upside down. Besides that, though, Elena could feel the blonde’s gaze on her back like a physical weight.

Finally, Elena sighed. Hair mostly dry, she folded the slightly damp towel and set it on a low table off to the side. Her fingers twisted in the soft cotton of her new t-shirt briefly before moving to smooth a wrinkle in her jeans. She had laid Elijah’s jacket over the back of her chair when she emerged from the bathroom, and she debated for a moment before sitting up straight to pull it on once more.

“In case you’re wondering,” she murmured, pulling the fabric closed over her torso, “this doesn’t change anything. Having my humanity back again, I mean, and not having a sire bond anymore.” She looked over her shoulder. “I still don’t want the Cure. Well—” Her lips pursed. “I do, but I don’t.”

Rebekah blinked, surprised. “What? Why not?”

She shrugged. “There’s only one dose.” Her gaze returned to the view outside. “There are too many people who want it, too many _reasons_ they want it.” She shook her head. “I want it, but I can live— _survive_ without it. And even if it doesn’t change anything, even if someone I know takes it for some selfish reason, or Silas takes it and dies… I care about too many vampires to hurt them by taking it.”

They were silent for several minutes as Rebekah absorbed that. Elena didn’t continue, just kept staring at the traffic light; it was red for two solid minutes before Rebekah sighed heavily.

“Back to the bleeding heart, I see,” she groaned, tossing the magazine onto the table. The sharp sound was loud in the quiet room. “How predictable. Can’t say I’ve missed this.”

Elena didn’t talk for a moment. Then she turned in her seat to look at the other woman, head tilting in thought.

“I’m sorry I stabbed you in the back,” she blurted. Her mouth twisted. “I—I didn’t want to. I don’t think I told you that.” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t, because I didn’t even want to admit it to myself. Admit that… that I trusted the wrong people. Over and over and over again.”

Rebekah raised a brow, crossing her arms. “What are you going on about?” she demanded.

“When we were trying to get Mikael to kill Klaus,” Elena said slowly. “I know it hurt you, and not just physically. And I’m sorry.”

“I gathered,” the blonde retorted. “I meant the part about trusting the wrong people.”

“Pretty sure you know how compulsion works,” she replied bluntly. “It’s how you forced Stefan and me apart, after all.”

She at least had the decency to wince. “That was… cruel, I know,” she admitted quietly. “But you were my friend, Elena. I thought you were, anyway.”

“I thought we were, too. Or we were starting to be. I wanted to be.”

Rebekah’s lips pursed. “And Elijah?” she asked, challenging. “Where does he fit into this?”

Elena’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “I trust Elijah,” she muttered. “And… right now, the list of people I actually, really, _truly_ trust is running low. I can’t make a decision on the others right now—whether I want them back in my life or not, or if I’ll ever trust them again. It’s too fresh. Until then… Elijah has offered to help me.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” She shrugged. “We’re—friends, I guess. We’ve always had a connection, and we respect each other. Right now, I need someone I can believe in, who believes in me. Elijah is that. So. We’re friends. Or allies, but that sounds…”

“Horrible?” Rebekah scoffed. “Not to mention inaccurate. I saw the way you two walked into that diner.” She smirked. “There’s a reason I called you pathetic, the night we were undaggered.”

Elena blinked, tilting her head with her brow scrunched in confusion. “I… don’t know what you’re saying,” she confessed.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s in love with you, you _moron_.”

“What?” Elena’s eyes widened. “No, he—” She swallowed. “He’s with Katherine,” she said, voice firm. “And we’re not like that. Never have been.”

Rebekah sucked her teeth, incredulous. “How can you read him so well,” she said, exasperated and demanding, “know when he’s keeping something from you, or hiding behind his words, and still not be able to see what’s written so clearly across his face every time he looks at you?”

“It’s not—He doesn’t see me like that,” she insisted. “He can’t. He swore he’d never fall for another Doppelgänger, and if he did, it wouldn’t be me.”

The blonde raised a brow. “Oh, so he _didn’t_ take the chance to kiss you when he saw you today?” She shook her head when the baby vampire grimaced and looked away. “My brother is in love with you,” she repeated sternly. “And you have feelings for him, too. You have for as long as I’ve known you—I noticed the first time you talked about him. I’m sure you don’t know what they are yet, but it’s clear—”

“No,” Elena protested, forcefully cutting her off. “No. I was with Stefan.”

“So?”

“And then I was with Damon.”

“Whom you fell in love with while you were still with Stefan,” she pointed out. “You can’t help _when_ you get feelings. Sometimes they just happen.” Rebekah leaned against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. “For what it’s worth… I can understand why you two are drawn to each other.” She paused, peeking over at her through one eye. “And,” she said quietly, “I forgive you. But… why didn’t you tell me? Before?”

Elena blinked, still dazed from the bombshell Rebekah had dropped, and replied bluntly, “I didn’t care. And before that…” She shrugged. “You compelled us, that day, to stay quiet unless you asked us a question, and… you never asked why I did it. And the only other chance I really had to tell you was that day in the caves, and you didn’t give me a chance to explain. Even if you’d let me get a word in edgewise, I wouldn’t have been able to say anything about the compulsion.” She shook her head. “It all just kinda slipped away.”

Rebekah nodded and closed her eyes again with a deep sigh. “Alright. I suppose we’re—”

She was cut off by a knock on the door.

Elena raised a brow. “Who?” she mouthed.

Rebekah shook her head, standing.

“Time to go, sweetheart,” Damon called, sugar sweet, from the hallway. “It took way too long to figure out where the Originals were keeping you. There’s no telling how much longer Katherine’s gonna hold Elijah’s attention.”

Elena frowned and pressed herself backward into her seat. “I’m not going with you, Damon,” she muttered.

Rebekah shot her a look, but she just shook her head. The Original threw her hands up in frustration and disappeared further into the suite, presumably to take her own shower.

“Don’t be like that.” His voice was petulant and joking. “You know we just wanted to help.”

She growled, glaring at the door. “You spent weeks trying to make sure that I had a choice, that I wouldn’t be forced into a relationship with you because of a stupid sire bond. And then you took my choice away from me and made me turn off my emotions.” She scoffed over his protests. “Well, guess what, Damon?” she continued bitterly. “It wasn’t the sire bond that made me love you. I know it wasn’t, because I’m refusing to go with you. Which means no more sire bond.”

Outside, he went quiet. Listening.

“And I still love you.” Elena sighed, closing her eyes to battle the tears threatening to start. “I still love you, Damon.”

Her breath hitched; outside, she could hear his own do the same. She grimaced, hand coming up to caress the place her necklace used to rest.

“But I don’t trust you.” It came out as a whisper. “I just—I don’t. Not right now. Maybe not ever, I—” She stuttered, looking down. “I don’t know, Damon. I just know that I can’t be around you right now. You or Stefan or Caroline. I just can’t, not until I figure this out.”

She heard him lean against the door, heavy, like his legs wouldn’t hold him up. “Elena… Please.”

“I’m asking for some time, Damon,” she said tightly. “I need time. Once I figure this out… we’ll go from there.”

“Time with Elijah?” he asked, bristling. “What the hell happened with you two, Elena? Is he compelling you? Are you being forced to stay with these psychotic Originals? Tell me.”

“Of course I’m not being compelled,” she snapped. “ _Elijah_ knows a little something called _boundaries_. He wouldn’t do that to me.” She pursed her lips, trying to calm herself, before saying, “Damon, I _trust_ Elijah. That hasn’t changed in the last year, and it hasn’t changed in the last few hours.” She sighed. “If you’re asking me if we’re together, the answer’s no.” Her mouth curled in a slight sneer. “But you and I aren’t together right now, either—so either way, it’s really none of your business.”

There was a long pause before he shoved off from the wall. “Fine,” he spat. “I’ll give you _time_.” The word had a bitter edge to it. His tone softened then. “I… Take all the time you need, Elena. Just—Just come home when you’re ready.”

Elena opened her mouth—to respond or protest, she wasn’t sure—but it didn’t matter. She heard the whisper of air as he sped away, heard Stefan’s protests downstairs when he grabbed his arm and dragged him off. She released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when the sound of their argument disappeared down the street a few minutes later.

“Did you mean that?”

Elena looked up to find Rebekah leaning in the doorway to the kitchenette sporting a new outfit and damp hair. “Mean what?” she intoned. “I said a lot of things.”

“About not trusting Damon,” she clarified calmly. “Even though you still love him.”

She shrugged. “It happens. Love and trust aren’t always coinciding emotions.”

Elena took a deep breath, glancing away to stare at her shoes.

“When I—” She cleared her throat. “When Elijah kissed me, he thought I was… Well, I thought he thought I was Katherine, and—I don’t know. I guess it was just the last straw. Damon and Stefan have been trying for weeks to get me to flip the switch, but… there was something about pretending to be Katherine and having Elijah kiss me, _look_ at me like that—tell me he missed me… I mean, tell Katherine he missed her…” She shook her head, going quiet.

After a few moments, Rebekah crossed the space to touch her arm lightly, almost comforting. “But he didn’t really think you were Katherine, did he?” she asked softly. “He’s been chasing her for five hundred years, and he’s been in love with you for months. He must have noticed.”

Elena nodded. “He said he knew when I turned around,” she confirmed quietly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that—that I thought he was looking at _her_ like that. That he missed _her_. And I tried to keep it together, but it was like it was too much, like I was surprised into turning it back on. And I… It all just came rushing back.”

Rebekah sat in the chair beside hers, taking her hand gently. “How did you get through it?” she asked. “I haven’t turned mine off—haven’t been able to—in centuries, but I remember it being…”

“Crippling,” she finished with a nod. “It was. I—I probably would’ve gone a little insane if Elijah hadn’t been there.”

“What did he do?”

“Compelled me to calm down.” She smiled fondly and shook her head when Rebekah’s expression clouded with anger. “No, it’s okay. That’s all he made me do, just calm down. I think he knew, without me telling him… I think he knew it would betray my trust if he did anything more.” She took a breath and let it out slowly. “It was like I was drowning,” she described. “Everything from the last month hit all at once—even some stuff from before that, stuff that I couldn’t feel because of the sire bond. Grief, anger, loneliness, betrayal, embarrassment, shame. Wave after wave, and I couldn’t shut the door on it fast enough.”

Rebekah’s hand tightened over hers when her breath started to stutter. She forced a small smile and squeezed back.

“Then he compelled me, and it was all still there, but I couldn’t get to it. Inside, I was freaking out, but on the surface… I could think. Focus. He told me to focus on one emotion, let it come up and bury the others. Then I could slowly let the others flow through me, and it wasn’t as bad.”

“What was the one?” The blonde’s voice was quiet. “The first one?”

“It was almost grief,” she admitted. “I started thinking about Jeremy, and—it was terrible. But then… then I thought about the night after he died. When I realized he was dead, and I freaked out—when Damon made me turn it off.”

She breathed shakily, nose sniffling a bit.

“Betrayal,” she said after a moment. “Trust, too, because they go together. It’s how I trusted Elijah to help me and keep me safe; how Damon and Stefan broke my trust when they took away my choice. After that… love. I still love them both, but I hate them a little, too—and hate came next. Hate for them, hate for Katherine for ruining my life. Grief over Jeremy, shame over the things I did. Embarrassment for some of my risqué exploits.”

A giggle slipped out, and then she sighed.

“Anger that I let it happen, that _they_ let it happen, that I didn’t let them help me before it got out of hand. And loneliness, because no one trusted me, and no one wanted _me_ , and I could see it in their eyes. It’s hard being surrounded by friends and knowing that you’ll never be exactly who they want in the exact way they remember.”

Rebekah let out a long, huffing breath. “Elena—” She paused, watching her face and searching for the words. “There _are_ people out there who care about you,” she settled on. “They just don’t handle change well.” She shrugged casually. “Either they get over it, or they don’t. If they don’t, cut them loose. They aren’t worth your time.”

Elena laughed, voice still thick with emotion. “Okay, Rebekah,” she said lightly. “Let me know how that works out for you and Klaus.”

The blonde pouted. “That’s different,” she insisted.

Elena nodded, mock-serious. “Sure, sure. Of course. Totally different.”

She grinned, and Rebekah shoved her shoulder gently. “Glad to see you have a sense of humor,” she mused.

The baby vampire just shrugged. “I guess something good came out of this whole thing.”

Rebekah hummed but didn’t reply. Instead, they both stayed quiet for a few long minutes, lost in thought as the Sun set behind them.

After a while, the older woman glanced over to see her companion once again staring blankly into the middle-distance. Her eyes were wide and unseeing, face expressionless, and Rebekah frowned when she noticed how cold her skin felt beneath her hand.

“You didn’t feed earlier,” she muttered. “You should eat.” Elena said nothing, and she sighed. “There aren’t any clinics in town, and the closest hospital is in the city.”

Her gaze turned calculating for a moment, taking in the stiffness in the girl’s limbs and the vacant look in her eyes. She sighed again. There was no way she had the peace of mind to be able to feed from the vein, not like this; there was too large of a chance that she’d take too much, and her newly returned conscience would drown her if she snapped and killed someone.

Still, Rebekah shifted a bit closer and asked quietly, “Do you want to find someone to feed from?”

Elena didn’t respond for a long moment. Then she blinked, long and slow and slightly dazed, and looked over at her as she shook her head. “They’re just gonna call me Katherine,” she murmured. “And I—I don’t think I could stop.” Her smile was forced, jagged at the edges. “It’s okay, I’ll just wait until we’re on the road.”

The blonde made to protest, but her friend only shook her head and pat her hand lightly before releasing it. The younger woman leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, face relaxing into exhaustion. Rebekah eyed the grey tinge threatening to overtake her skin tone, but she dropped the subject for the moment.

Elena’s breaths evened out into a light, dozing sleep, and Rebekah moved to settle back on the couch to wait for her brother’s return.


	6. On Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An apology. She’d never allowed herself to think there was anything more to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah is So Done with Elejah’s Shit, Forgiveness, Insecurity, Mature Discussion of Feelings, Blood-Sharing

Elijah appeared as twilight shifted to night.

The _click_ as the door closed behind him was too soft to announce his arrival. He leaned against the threshold, watching the two girls in his charge for a moment before they noticed his presence.

Rebekah was lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest and humming a popular song. Her hair was still a bit damp as it hung limply over the arm of the couch, and she hadn’t bothered putting her shoes back on. He could see, though, that she had put socks on—she never did particularly like having her feet bare.

Elena was in a chair by the window across the room, head tilted back with her eyes closed. She still had his jacket wrapped around her, though she’d obviously changed clothes. The image made his lips twitch with a smile.

The young vampire was breathing evenly. She almost seemed to be asleep, but it was probably only a light doze at the most; he could see her fingers tapping along to Rebekah’s singing.

Elijah cleared his throat.

Rebekah sat up on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, leaning an elbow against the cushions behind her to prop her head up to face him. Elena snapped out of her doze to blink at him hazily; her fingers curled in the overlong sleeves of his jacket as she planted her palms on the seat of her chair and leaned forward, meeting his gaze with a soft smile.

“Good, you’re back,” Rebekah snarked before the other girl could say anything. “Maybe you can convince this one to feed. She’ll desiccate in a few hours, the way this is going.”

The elder Original frowned, brow raising as he pushed off from the threshold and stepped into the room. Elena seemed fine to him, if a bit tired. Though, now that his sister had pointed it out, he noticed the pallor in her cheeks, a slight stiffness to her movements.

“When was the last time she fed?” he asked, skeptical.

“Trenton, I think,” the brunette muttered.

Rebekah grimaced and shook her head. “Before that—Hartford, at least, maybe Syracuse. At least thirty-six, maybe forty-eight hours.”

Elijah nodded, gaze shifting to the younger vampire once more. It explained the grey around her eyes, the dry skin around her lips, her slightly labored breathing, to some extent, though she seemed… exceptionally advanced for a fast of only two days.

“You should feed,” he said. It wasn’t quite gentle, nor was it an order. More of a statement falling somewhere in the middle.

“I can wait until we’re out of this town,” Elena protested. “Everyone here will just see me as Katherine…” Her lips pursed, and she met his gaze imploringly. “Elijah, I _can’t_.”

He sighed, eyes closing briefly in a sort of frustrated understanding, but he eventually nodded.

Rebekah rolled her eyes when she realized he wouldn’t push the subject. “Pathetic,” she spat with little venom to it. She looked to her elder brother with a raised brow. “Where’s Katherine?”

“On her way to the airport, I suppose,” he mused, shrugging. It occurred to Elena that she hadn’t seen him do that very often unless he was being mocking. “She wasn’t particularly happy that I took Elena’s side, or that I refused to broker her deal with Klaus.”

“My _side_?” Elena blurted, incredulous. “She killed my brother.”

“She claimed he was collateral damage in her quest to win her freedom.” Her mouth opened, an indignant crease forming between her brows, and he held up a hand to stop her. “I know it’s cruel, but you cannot deny that her character would indicate she’s telling the truth in this case.”

Elena frowned. “Katherine looks out for Katherine,” she sighed, agreeing after a moment.

Her head tilted as she looked at Elijah. He was still, quiet. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight. Hurt—he was hurt.

“I’m sorry she wasn’t what you hoped,” she said softly. “I’m sure she cares about you in her own Katherine way, but… she’s not that sweet peasant girl you fell in love with five hundred years ago. That girl isn’t coming back.”

He scoffed, watching as Rebekah rolled her eyes and disappeared outside with a muttered insult. When he turned back to Elena, his smile was amused but tight.

“I’m not a fool, Elena,” he said. “Of course this had occurred to me. But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t try to find my _Katerina_ beneath the… Katherine façade?”

Elena closed her eyes, exhaling heavily through her nose as she chewed on the inside of her lip. _My Katerina,_ she repeated in her mind, scoffing internally. She should have known. Rebekah didn’t know what she was talking about—clearly, Elijah still had feelings for her older twin. Not her.

She didn’t know why that realization hurt so much.

“Damon and Stefan have been trying for weeks to get the girl they love back from wherever she was buried in my mind,” she murmured after a moment. Her eyes opened, gaze falling on his face immediately. “And now she is, but I’m still different, and they still don’t have me. Or her. So what does that say about finding what’s lost?”

“You can’t blame them for having hope, Elena,” Elijah told her. “It would have been a shame if the world had lost a soul as compassionate as yours.” He leaned back against the wall, eyes closing briefly. “And they love you. Anyone would be determined to rescue the one they love from their fate.”

She smiled despite herself as she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “‘Your compassion is a gift, Elena,’” she recited. His mouth twitched slightly, one eye opening to glance at her. Her smile grew. “‘Carry it with you,’” she continued. “‘Always and forever.’”

His smile twitched further before smoothing out, his eyes closing once more as he forced a neutral expression. She tilted her head, chin resting against her shoulder. She could still smell him on the jacket wrapped around her—a strange combination of flowers and something else, something that reminded her of the old town library.

“I remember reading that in a letter once,” Elena teased lightly.

“The writer sounds positively gifted,” he replied, amused as he looked over at her. “I’m sure he meant what he wrote.”

“I’m sure he did,” she agreed softly, watching his smile grow slightly in an almost fond way. The teasing glint soon disappeared from her eyes as she continued, “And even though I must have read it a thousand times, memorized it months ago, it kills me inside, knowing that I’ll never hold that letter in my hands again. Never read the words straight from the page.”

Her mouth twisted into a sadder smile when Elijah’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“It was tucked into my journal,” she said, “and I watched it burn the night I turned it off.” She pursed her lips before she continued, explaining, “I stood there and watched the whole place—the Gilbert family house—burn to the ground with Jeremy’s body and my old life.” His jaw tightened in an almost angry way, though she could tell it wasn’t directed at her, and she shook her head. “I… I might have done it anyway, honestly. I wasn’t in a good place when he died, and I—it was a lot of things. Everyone I love is dead, and they’re all buried in the family plot. There’s no more room. There wasn’t a spot for Jeremy, and if and when I die for good, there won’t be one for me.”

Elena clasped her fingers together over her lap. Her eyes closed, and her breath shuddered in her lungs, and the only reason she stayed calm was because she could feel his eyes on her and knew she was safe.

“I… I’m alone now,” she muttered. “And it hurts, but—but I won’t ever do it again. I won’t turn it off. I can’t.” She breathed deeply and rephrased, “I’ve lost too many people. I can’t lose any more parts of myself. Not like I did this time.”

Before she could look up, Elijah was there, in the chair right next to hers. He tilted her chin up and to the side to lock eyes with her.

“Elena,” he murmured, “you haven’t lost yourself. Your compassion _is_ a gift, and the fact that trust and betrayal were the first things you brought back… it’s a sign of great strength.”

She gave a small smile. “Thank you,” she said. “I… I should have said that earlier.” His hand dropped from her cheek, but she caught it between hers before he went far. “I don’t know what would have happened if Damon or Stefan or Caroline had been the ones to bring me back—what emotion I would have latched onto.” Her smile both widened and softened as she looked at him through her lashes. “If anyone was going to bring me back… I’m glad it was you.”

She laughed roughly then, looking down. Her grin turned into a grimace in half a second.

“Even though all you really did was kiss Katherine and say you missed her.”

“I told you.”

Elijah’s voice was quiet but firm as he combed her hair back from her face and cupped her cheek. He brushed his thumb along the pale skin beneath her eye. His eyes were alight with a fierceness that almost took her breath away.

“I knew it was you.” The smile that curled at the corner of his mouth was wry and teasing. “You may be identical to Katherine, but you could never pass for her. Maybe Katerina, that girl I met in 1491. But not Katherine, not the way she is now.”

His other hand moved to her shoulder, caressing her neck comfortingly.

“Before the sacrifice, you asked me if you were similar to Katherine in any way outside of your looks.” He caught the spark of memory that lit her expression, and his smile softened. “I couldn’t give you the answer you wanted then, and I know you were disappointed with my response. But I didn’t have all of the information then, and I do now.”

Her head tilted slightly, though she didn’t move any closer or farther away. “And?” she asked quietly. “Elijah, it’s fine, I don’t expect…” She trailed off—she didn’t expect _anything_ , really, but she didn’t know how to voice that without him taking it the wrong way.

The Original only shook his head, almost frustratedly fond. “I know,” he said, tone wry. “You never have. But you need to know, Elena. You need to know that you are _nothing like her_.” His expression hardened, eyes intent on hers as he worked to convince her. “You never will be—even with your emotions off, I could see you beneath your Katherine charade. Just as I’ve always seen you—only you, since the first time I really _saw_ you.”

He shook his head, irrationally irritated that his usual eloquence was failing him.

“Our second meeting, when you were ready to surrender to those idiots in order to save your friends and family from Klaus’ wrath,” he explained. “I heard you talking to Damon before they came to collect you, and your compassion and love for the people around you—it was strange to learn, having personally known two Doppelgängers before you, but after that moment it was clear.” His hand tightened on her shoulder reassuringly. “I have never mistaken you for Katherine since that day Rose captured you for me, and I swear to you—as I’ve sworn to myself—that I never will again.”

Elena couldn’t help but swallow, jaw tight and heavy with emotion. No one had ever promised her that; no one had ever understood, like he did, that she needed them to be able to tell her apart from her twin. She’d never told anyone, too afraid of angering them—or worse, losing them—but it was always there, that insecurity. Elijah was just the first to recognize it without her having to say a word, apparently.

“What gave me away this time, though?” she asked, trying for levity and falling just short. “The bad haircut or the doe eyes? Katherine’s words,” she explained quickly when he raised a brow.

He shook his head. “I like the hair,” he repeated with a small grin. “But it’s not quite Katherine, I will admit. She would never dye her hair. And your eyes are beautiful—always wide and curious. Hopeful.” His own eyes were soft. “But that wasn’t how I knew it was you.”

“Please, enlighten me.” She meant it to be a tease—lighthearted and bright—but it came out slightly breathless as she absorbed his compliments.

Elijah tilted his head. His expression was soft, but not quite adoring. It was more appreciative and thoughtful, though there was some affection in his gaze.

“The look in your eyes when you turned and saw me,” he said softly, after a moment. “The way your fingers clasped your wrist. The way you leaned more on your right leg than your left. Your heartbeat and that little stutter in your breath.”

His hand slipped down from her cheek to lay against the side of her throat, just over her pulse; his other hovered over the lapel of his jacket where it pressed closer to her sternum, the touch itself chaste despite its placement.

“That was the biggest giveaway,” he told her.

Elena shook her head, holding his hand against her collar. “You haven’t seen me since I turned,” she protested lightly. “Unless you mean you recognized it as not being Katherine’s…”

“You’re right,” he said easily. “I haven’t seen you since my sister killed you. But some things never change.” His thumb caressed her jaw, expression almost timidly doting as his eyes roamed her face. “Your heart jumps when you’re being dishonest with me. I’ve told you that before. It stutters three times, just a flutter, and your breathing hitches—this little catch, barely noticeable.”

Elena was quiet for a moment, watching him as he watched her. Then she said, “You know, it’s kind of creepy you paid that much attention to how my heart beats. And how I breathe—that too.”

Elijah blinked, and the spell he seemed to be under broke. A light laugh slipped from him as he retrieved his hand from her throat and his other from her grip. “Apologies,” he said.

Elena just shook her head, clasping her fingers together. “It’s okay,” she muttered. “It’s…”

She hesitated, clearing her throat and looking down at her hands as she straightened the hem of her tunic against her thighs.

“I’m glad someone could tell the difference,” she settled on, after a moment. Her lips pursed, considering. “I… If… If you knew, then why—” She swallowed. “Why did you… do what you did?”

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” he said, perfectly blunt with no expression on his face. “And I meant it when I said I missed you, Elena. I—I wasn’t sure why you were pretending to be Katherine, but I took the opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do for months. Something I might not have ever gotten the chance to do again.”

When she glanced up at him from the corner of her eye, she was met with his profile as he faced straight ahead, leaning his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His jaw was tight, eyes closed in resignation and a bit of shame, as if he were cursing himself for saying too much.

“Rebekah told me… She said you have—feelings. For me.”

“I do.”

Her eyes widened in slight surprise at the confirmation, but she pushed forward anyway. “When did they start?”

“Does it matter?” he asked through clenched teeth. “You do not return them.”

“It matters to me.” Elena frowned. “Elijah. I just—I don’t understand. You said you’d never… you said it was a mistake you’d never make again. I… I’ve trusted you for more than a year, I’ve been reading into your words and actions since the day we met, and—” she sighed, frustrated “—and I’ve never _not_ caught on to what you really meant. I just don’t understand how you could feel so strongly about me and me not notice.”

Elijah sighed heavily. “You read my letter,” he stated. His gaze stayed on his hands.

“Of course.” Her brow scrunched in confusion. “You know that. What does that have to do with—”

“Did you not think it the least bit strange,” he interrupted, curiously exasperated, “that I would use my family’s vow as a farewell address?”

Elena pulled up short at that.

It had crossed her mind, of course; she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t. Something had sparked within her at the sight of those words in a letter addressed to her from him. He’d told her what that phrase meant to his family—she’d witnessed it on more than one occasion, even—and to have him make the same vow to her… it meant something, she knew.

She’d put it off, though, shoved it to the back of her mind as a show of respect between allies and friends. An apology. She’d never allowed herself to think there was anything more to it.

“You did,” Elijah said suddenly, breaking her from her musings. His expression was surprised—almost incredulous, really. “You knew the meaning of it, and you ignored it. Didn’t you?”

“Of course not,” she said, voice flat. “I knew what it meant, yeah, but I didn’t think the context was… I mean, I just assumed you meant it as a way to reinforce your apology. I thought maybe—maybe it meant that we could be friends again, someday, or something.” She shrugged. “You told me you’d never fall for another Doppelgänger, and I was under the impression that that still stood, so I just… let it go. Justified it as a respect kind of thing.” She locked gazes with him once more. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Elijah ran a hand through his hair, looking back down at the floor. “I don’t know,” he hedged. Her eyes narrowed, and he continued, “Before my mother’s spell.”

“Before the ball?”

“Yes.”

She pursed her lips. “Before you stopped Rebekah from killing me?”

“Yes.”

“Before the _sacrifice_?”

He grimaced. “Yes.”

Elena leaned forward to catch his eye with hers, raising a brow. “So you lied,” she said blandly.

He caught the edge to it—hurt and angry—and fought not to flinch. She had a valid reason to feel that way. They’d never lied to each other before, the night of the ball notwithstanding. Twisted their words, manipulated the truth, yes, but never outright lied. And given his reaction to discovering her deceit the night of the ball, Elena was more than likely under the impression that had always been the case. Hearing any different, even about something she probably understood was something he didn’t think was necessary for her to know, was going to be a shock no matter how he phrased it.

“That day at the Lockwood mansion,” she continued. “You lied to me.”

“Yes and no.” Elijah frowned. “I knew that I was… growing attached, but it wasn’t concrete. I was attempting to establish a distance that I could feel shrinking.”

“But?”

“But,” he conceded, “the sacrifice didn’t take place for another week, and I was with you for most of it. I could feel the space closing. By the fifth night… the night you told me of your fears in regard to Katherine… I knew. But it was too late, by then, and I hated that I didn’t have a better way to save you.”

Elena was quiet for a long moment, absorbing it all. She looked down at her hands as Elijah looked away once more.

“Did you know I was compelled to dagger you?” she asked, very quietly. “Is that why you forgave me so quickly?”

“I knew,” he said, just as soft, “but not until days later. Damon and Stefan were arguing, and they let something slip.”

A memory hit her. “That was the day you picked me up from school.”

“Yes.”

It’d been a strangely bleak day, and she’d wanted nothing more than to curl up beneath her blankets and sleep for a long, long time. The sight of the shiny black car, a familiar suit in the driver’s seat, surprised her, but it was nothing compared to the surprise she felt when they arrived at their destination—a little bookstore outside town. They’d spent hours there, until well after dark, and Elijah had pointed out all the books the store had that he had written, and all the ones written by various vampires he knew over the centuries. It had been peaceful, happy, _easy_. She remembered it being the first time she thought of Elijah as a friend rather than just an ally.

Elena had always held a certain fondness for Elijah. Rebekah was right—if she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that that fondness went outside the bounds of a normal friendship and tread dangerously close to romance territory. Those feelings had started long before that night at the bookstore.

They had started in her room, the night they made their first deal.

They had progressed through the night of the daggering, which she really didn’t want to do, and their day at the Lockwood mansion, when hearing that he would never care for anyone with her face had hurt her more than she had wanted to admit.

Hearing of his betrayal after the sacrifice had nearly shattered her trust in _anyone_ , and she’d almost been more outraged at Klaus for daggering him than she was for Klaus’ treatment of Stefan.

She had instantly regretted helping Esther when she realized it would mean Elijah’s death, and had actually been on her way to tell him everything when he showed up. She had immediately forgiven him for leaving her in the caves with Rebekah, despite how much the blonde had wanted to kill her, and his goodbye letter had made her cry.

When he had come back to ask for Klaus’ body, she had wanted to agree immediately—had they been alone, she would have, but everyone else made making a deal so much more complicated than it needed to be.

And to top it all off, she had hoped that he would return upon her transition. She’d wanted his help more than anything, those first few weeks, because she was sure he was the only one who could understand her. He always had.

So here they were. They’d both admitted their feelings to her, and now she needed to voice her feelings to him. She just needed to think of a way to do it.

Elena took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

Hesitantly, she reached out and curled her fingers between his hands, carefully entwining hers with his. She brought his hand over into her lap and placed her other hand over the back of it.

“I—”

She cut herself off, teeth grinding as she thought through the words. Her eyes stayed on their clasped hands.

“I’m not saying right now,” she began slowly. She felt him stiffen with some emotion or other and squeezed his hand without looking up. “And I’m not saying I’m in a good place, because I think we both know I’m not.” She swallowed. “I—I’m not strong enough to make a decision today, but… but one day I will be. It might be a hundred years from now, or it could be next week. I don’t know.”

Elena took another deep breath and let it out in a huge gush before glancing at him through her lashes. He was looking at her curiously; she could see a hint of hope in his eyes, there and gone in a flash.

“Emotions and opinions and—and everything… it’s all different, now that I’m a vampire. I don’t know my own timetable; I haven’t had to readjust my perception of time yet, and I don’t know how I’ll feel at any given moment, but I do know…” She smiled. “I know that I’m going to make that decision— _those decisions_ —eventually, and… I want you to be there.”

The smile became hesitant as she continued, “Because I also can’t say that I don’t have feelings for you. I do. I don’t know what they are—I haven’t had to think about it.” She laughed humorlessly. “I didn’t even realize they were there until Rebekah pointed it out—well, no. Until I saw you today, really, but Rebekah helped me realize what it meant. What it’s always meant, because they’ve been there for a while. But I don’t know what they are, exactly, and I… I can’t make any decisions until I figure that out along with all my other feelings. There’s something _there_ , and I need you to know that and know…”

Elena blinked long and slow, gathering courage before finishing her little monologue with a small, hopeful little statement:

“Know that today might not have been the last chance you’ll get.”

She closed her eyes and lowered her head. For a moment, Elijah was completely still and silent.

Then she felt his fingers beneath her jaw, tilting her face toward him. He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead and leaned back just as her eyes fluttered open. His smile was small and fond, bright and hopeful.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured. “For as long as it takes—as long as you need or want me, just as I said before. You have my word on that.”

Elena blinked up at him, dazed. Then she beamed, eyes crinkling at the edges. “Okay.”

She leaned in slightly to rest her forehead on his shoulder. Elijah released her chin to curl an arm around her shoulders, holding her close, and she sighed softly, content.

The Original frowned when his fingers encountered the cold, stiff skin of her shoulder where his jacket had slid down her arm. Even going a full two days without blood shouldn’t have dried her out this fast, and as she sagged into his arms, her exhaustion worried him.

“Elena?”

“Hmm?” It was a rough hum to acknowledge his voice, but her eyes remained closed as he tipped her head back to look at her. “What is it?” she murmured, voice scratchy.

“You really should feed,” he said, not unkindly. “You’ll desiccate if you wait too much longer, and it could be hours before we’re away from here.”

Elena shook her head. “Not here,” she protested. She spoke slowly, almost slurred. “I’m fine.”

Elijah grimaced. “You’re not,” he pointed out. His eyes ran over her face and down her body, taking in her pallor and stiffening joints. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a young vampire dry out so quickly, though. Is this a normal occurrence for you?”

Her shoulder listed in a half-shrug. “Not sure. I’ve never gone more than a day without blood… not since the first week, I mean.”

“What happened your first week?”

She blinked slowly, trying to focus. Her brow scrunched in concentration. “I… I couldn’t keep blood down. Animal blood, blood bags, vampire blood… it stayed down for minutes or hours, but it kept coming back up. I had to drink from the human vein.”

Elijah’s frown deepened. “I’ve never heard of a vampire being unable to drink from blood bags.”

“I can now. The sire bond—long story,” Elena said shortly. “Tell you later. I just wanna sleep.”

He shook his head. “No, Elena.” He jostled her until her eyes reopened. “You need blood.”

“No, I’m—”

It was a split-second decision, an unusual experience for him. He would normally never do this—could count on one hand the number of times he had in the last thousand years—but something about her deteriorating right in front of him left him feeling off kilter, unsteady enough to throw caution to the wind.

He’d rolled his sleeve up to his elbow and punctured his wrist with a swift bite before he could second-guess himself.

Elijah held the bloody limb under her chin. “Drink.”

Elena’s eyes snapped open at the smell of fresh blood, whether it was a vampire’s or not, and he watched, almost fascinated, as the veins under her skin wriggled around her eyes. Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips instinctually before her fangs descended. She stared between the leaking vein and his face, drawing physically closer to the former with every second that passed.

A blink, and she seemed to shake herself out of it a bit. Her fangs retracted, brow scrunched in concern or confusion. Interesting. Few vampires had the ability to resist fresh blood, even after centuries of honing their control. Once again, Elena seemed to be the outlier.

“Isn’t—” Her throat constricted around the words, voice catching like sandpaper. “Isn’t blood-sharing… kinda… personal?”

He nodded, but he pressed the quickly closing wound closer to her. “I know,” he said. It would have almost been wry, had he not been staring at her so intently. He had, after all, been alive for many more decades than she had. “Please, Elena. You need to eat something. It’s alright.”

The young vampire just watched him for a moment, skeptical. Then she breathed, and the smell of blood hit her again. Her fangs descended once more, veins shooting across her cheeks and eyes bloodshot with desire. She looked hesitantly between his wrist and eyes.

Elijah smiled. “It’s alright,” he repeated, tone soothing as he raised his free hand to run it through her loose curls. “Drink, Elena.”

Finally, she nodded, and the relief that shot through him was surprising but not unwelcome. He sighed with it, allowing her to pull his arm closer to her teeth. She paused there for a moment before sinking her fangs into the flesh of his wrist with a slight crunch of skin and cartilage.

A slight moan tore from her throat as she gulped down his blood, and Elijah clenched his teeth to avoid matching the noise. When she went to remove herself after only a few sips, he shook his head, fingers curling in her hair to keep her close. Her next moan was louder, grip tightening as she curled over her meal and drank more forcefully.

“Shh,” Elijah murmured. “Easy. I’m here.”

Her breath came through her nose in ragged little puffs, and he fought back another groan at the drag of her lips over his skin. She leaned into him slightly, shoulder blades pressing into his chest intimately, and he shifted them until she’d moved to lounge comfortably on his lap as she suckled at his vein.

A vampire feeding from another vampire was personal, yes—quasi-sexual, even—but he couldn’t recall it ever feeling quite like this.

As she drank from him, he felt a wave of utter _fondness_ wash over him. Without really thinking about it, he let his head fall to her shoulder, nuzzling against the space between her jaw and ear. She sighed through her nose, a light, happy noise that had her breath puffing delicately against his skin, and he hummed in contentment.

His arm tightened around her waist in a protective hold. Somehow, he knew that he wouldn’t let anything come between them until she was finished. It was almost the opposite of the typical feeding—instead of the vampire protecting their meal, the meal was keeping the vampire happy.

This also happened to be the first time Elijah had ever considered himself a _meal_ , but he was a little too lost in the haze of delight and affection to complain.

After a few minutes, Elena’s grip tightened slightly as she groaned for the last time and retracted her fangs from his arm. Elijah pressed a groan into the joint between her neck and shoulder when she nuzzled sleepily at the fading scar and licked his skin clean.

The girl hummed lightly, reaching up to roll his sleeve back down. She took a moment to straighten his cuff before reclining against his chest with a soft sigh. Her hand reached for the table near them, and he snatched the towel for her when her fingers fell short.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

The damp towel was soothing against her rejuvenated skin, and her eyes slipped closed again as she wiped the last of his blood from her chin. She blinked blearily up at him when he retrieved the towel to put it back on the table.

“Elijah?”

Her voice was slurred, still sleepy but more drunk than anything. She tipped her head back against his shoulder and let out a soft, happy noise—almost a purr—when he nosed gently at her cheek before meeting her dazed stare.

“Yes?” he rumbled quietly. The haze was slowly fading from his mind, but a sort of afterglow lingered. His senses were as sharp as they ever were, but the affection he’d felt during the feeding was still there, pulling all of his focus to stay on the girl in his arms. “Elena…”

“Tired,” she murmured. “When… leaving?”

Elijah just smiled down at her, arms tightening briefly as he repositioned her to be more comfortable. She pulled his jacket tighter around her like a blanket, fingers tucked inside the sleeves.

“Sleep,” he whispered in lieu of an answer. “We have time.”

Elena nodded, cheek sliding against the fabric covering his shoulder before resting there. “Mm-kay,” she muttered. She forced her eyes open for a few more seconds, focusing on his face through the haze he could see threatening to take over, and smiled gently. “Just for a minute… ‘til Bekah gets back…” Her eyes fluttered shut as she trailed off.

The Original stifled a chuckle at the nickname—something only Rebekah’s siblings had ever called her without dire consequences.

“Sure,” he said, placating. “Just for a little while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the stuff mentioned in this chapter--Elena needing to feed a lot more often than normal, Elijah's feelings, the blood-sharing stuff, timeline stuff, all that--will definitely be coming up again in future chapters.
> 
> As always, comments are open for questions/concerns/ideas/critiques! Happy reading!


	7. Rebekah Gets a Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What else could I do?”
> 
> 'So many things,' she didn’t say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah is So Done with Elejah’s Shit, Sometimes It Sucks to Be the Smart One

Nearly an hour later, Rebekah returned to find her brother sat in a chair and wrapped around the baby vampire.

Elena was still covered with Elijah’s jacket, though she had the man’s arms curled around her now as well as she sat sideways across his lap, head on his shoulder. Her breathing was even in the heaviest sleep Rebekah had seen in a vampire who wasn’t under a spell of some sort. The blonde raised a brow slightly at the scene, but if she were being honest—with him or herself—she couldn’t say she was entirely surprised by the display.

At first, in the second after she appeared in the entry, Elijah’s eyes were closed, face relaxed in a light doze. It was strange, seeing him so peaceful; the last time she’d seen him like this was centuries ago, in the upstart colony that they’d raised into the great New Orleans. That wasn’t to say it was a _bad_ sight. Just strange.

When she stepped into the room, her approach seemed to startle him—which, again, was strange for _Elijah_ , who was never taken off guard by _anything_. His eyes snapped open as his arms tightened around the girl in his lap; a soft growl escaped him, eyes flashing red in warning.

For a second, Rebekah froze, surprised gaze locked on her brother’s angry mien. He didn’t seem to recognize her for a long moment.

Then they both blinked, and Elijah relaxed slightly.

Elena shifted under his loosened grip, scrunching her nose and mumbling unintelligibly. Rebekah watched as her brother’s expression softened, listened to the soothing words he murmured against her hair until the woman settled.

Elijah gestured for Rebekah to take a seat next to them, and she did so with an exasperated huff, rolling her eyes.

“You work fast, brother,” she muttered.

“Nothing happened,” he whispered harshly.

His fingers combed through the girl’s hair absentmindedly, the soft touch belying his protests even as he glared at his sister.

“I assume you caught up with the Salvatore brothers?” he asked suddenly, changing the subject when she made to prod him. She sighed and rolled her eyes again, but she ultimately nodded in affirmation. “And are they going to be a problem?”

Rebekah shook her head. “They have officially left her in our care,” she snarked. “Elena’s speech earlier seemed to shake a bit of sense into them. Perhaps now they see that it is her choice alone, with whom she spends time.” His brow twitched in confusion, and she clarified, “They were here earlier, while you were gone.”

“Were they?”

It wasn’t really a question, too bland and seemingly not the least bit concerned or interested, but she knew her brother well enough to confirm it, anyway.

“Damon was, at least,” she told him. Then she sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Elena made it clear she didn’t want to talk to them. Took a bit of convincing, from what I heard.”

“I doubt they’ve truly given up,” Elijah mused lightly, even as a muscle in his jaw ticked. “They’ve never particularly been the type.”

“Mm,” she hummed in agreement. Her gaze fell on her pseudo-frenemy. “I see you managed to get her to feed.”

Elijah nodded, not offering any more information on the subject. Rebekah glanced at the bloody towel on the table, snatching it up to sniff lightly. He grimaced when her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and her nose turned in disdain.

“Blood-sharing already, Elijah?” Rebekah said, voice scathing and eyes knowing. It was a devastating combination. “You _do_ move fast. Most people wait until at least the first date, you know.”

“She was starving,” he grit out. “ _Desiccating_ , right in front of me, and she wouldn’t feed on anyone in this godforsaken town. What else could I do?”

 _So many things,_ she didn’t say, instead only sighing and tossing the towel away.

It explained a few things, certainly—the dozing, the growling, the affection—but it brought up so many new questions. This level of protectiveness was almost never seen outside of mates, and she could tell by looking at her brother that he had not completed the bond necessary to deserve the term. Besides, Elijah never completely relaxed around anyone; neither had Finn, not even with the one woman he shared such a bond with, which could only mean Elijah’s newfound peace had other factors.

_Wonderful._

Rebekah was almost certain she knew exactly what was happening here, but… Could it really be? It was so rare, something that seldom occurred twice in the same century, and it happened between _Elena_ and _Elijah_? Rebekah would need to do more research, more observation, more _something_ , before bringing it up to either of them, definitely. No need to cause issues by bringing up something that might not even exist here.

At least it wasn’t a sire bond. She could rest assured in that. This bond was different, stronger in some ways and weaker in others. They _were_ bound, they couldn’t fight that fact, and as far as she knew, there was no way to break it like a sire bond; however, they were reasonably safe with each other, could still make their own decisions, and it probably wouldn’t last for all their immortal lives.

Rebekah would count it as an indifferent sort of win. Not many pros or cons, just plain facts.

She lounged back in her seat, stretching her legs out before her as Elijah cleared his throat softly, unaware of her thoughts.

“We’ll be leaving shortly,” he murmured. “I’ll wake Elena if she does not rise within the hour.”

“Leaving for where?” She was fairly certain she knew, but she wanted confirmation before the inevitable conversation with their irritant of a half-brother.

“I plan to be back in Mystic Falls by tomorrow afternoon at the absolute latest,” he informed her.

Rebekah nodded. “You’ll hear no complaints from me. I’m ready to leave this crap town—and this terrible, no good day—and return home.”


	8. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I do hope you think a bit more of me than that.”
> 
> “I do,” she agreed before rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you just give me the Cure so I can judge you and your relationships with the Petrova Doppelgängers silently elsewhere?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, 4x18 American Gothic, Katherine is in Denial, Almost-OK Katherine Pierce, The Cure, Protective Rebekah Mikaelson, Rebekah is So Done with Elejah’s Shit, Forgiveness

Once Elena jostled herself awake after another hour, Elijah sent her and Rebekah ahead to his car while he checked out of the hotel. Rebekah had even taken his bag to put in the trunk.

When he finally emerged from the building, shrugging on the suit jacket Elena had so graciously returned with a smile (and, to his amusement and slight pride, a blush), it was to find Katherine waiting on the sidewalk. He moved to avoid her, but her hand on his chest stopped him.

“Wait.”

“What do you want?” he grit out.

“To tell you that you’re right.”

It gave him pause, despite his better judgment, and he turned to face her fully. She seemed genuine; he nodded for her to continue.

She bit her lip. “I’ve spent so much time running and lying just to survive that I don’t—” Her eyes darted away in shame and frustration as she cut herself off and shook her head. “I’m starting to believe my own lies.”

He sighed, looking down, and she drew closer to catch his eye.

“I don’t even remember who I was when we met,” she admitted, “and I wanna find out.”

Elijah didn’t reply, only watched her as she stared at him with that imploring look. Then she blinked and slowly reached into her bag, taking out a small box. He looked at it, then back at her.

“You have the Cure,” he stated.

“Yeah.” Katherine bared her teeth in a sneer, holding the box up closer to him. “And I can shove this down Klaus’ throat—try to kill him, but even if I managed to do it…” She sighed. “I’d lose you. And I don’t want that.”

“It already has, Katherine,” he said, forceful. “The moment I learned of your latest lie, you lost me. I told you—you’ve lied to me for the last time.”

She shook her head. “No—No, I’m talking about _forever_. Lies… They can be forgiven.” Her hand reached for his cheek, but she drew back at the last second. “It takes time—a century, or ten—but you can forgive a lie. If I killed Klaus—killed your brother… that would mean losing you forever, and I don’t want that.”

“How do I know _this_ isn’t another lie?” he asked, searching her eyes. “Katherine Pierce deceiving another man.” He scoffed.

Her mouth thinned, but she took his hand and placed the box in it before taking his other to close around it.

“Because I meant what I said,” she murmured, “about my feelings for you.” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “And I’d like to think you feel something for me, too.” He didn’t respond, and she straightened to look him fully in the eye. “I need you to trust me. I _want_ you to trust me. Just like I’m trusting you.”

Her hands tightened briefly around his before she released him, backing away slightly.

“You don’t owe me anything.” Katherine straightened her bag on her shoulder, chin held high. “I’m gonna let you decide where we go from here.”

Then she turned and walked away, not looking back.

Elijah opened the box to find the Cure, perfectly intact and glowing red in the streetlight. He shook his head, closing the box and slipping it into his pocket.

When he crossed the street to his car, Rebekah slid from her perch on the trunk. “You and Katherine?” She scoffed. “And I thought you were the smart brother.”

Elijah chuckled. “You don’t have a smart brother. It turns out I’m just as stupid as the rest of you.” He smiled.

“And what of Elena?” she demanded. “How can you lead her on, knowing that her Doppelgänger still has a hold over you?”

“And here I thought you hated the girl,” he mused.

“I was angry,” she spat. “But she only daggered me because she was compelled to—that makes us even in my book.” She crossed her arms. “And she cares for you, Elijah, nearly as much as you seem to care for her. Or perhaps she’s just a replacement for your precious _Katerina_?”

His gaze shot behind her to the brunette sitting in the backseat of his car. He wasn’t expecting her to eavesdrop—she wasn’t the type—but it was more than a little uncomfortable to be having this particular conversation not ten feet away from its subject.

“You presume too much, sister,” he said blandly. “Katherine no longer holds any part of me, a fact I have made clear to both of them.” His mouth twisted before he added, slightly exasperated at her expectant look, “Elena is aware of my feelings for her, and she knows I know the difference between them—that I would never and _could_ never mistake them—and that the feelings I have for her are untainted by those I had for Katherine centuries ago.” He frowned. “I do hope you think a bit more of me than that.”

“I do,” she agreed before rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you just give me the Cure so I can judge you and your relationships with the Petrova Doppelgängers silently elsewhere?”

His head tilted, thoughtful. “And what could you possibly want with the Cure?”

She paused before replying, “I want to be human again.”

Elijah went to respond—question her sanity, perhaps—when her phone rang, shrill in the tense air. She scowled as she dug it from her pocket, pushing the button violently.

“What do you want, Nik?” she snapped.

“An update on our search for the elusive Cure,” Klaus’ voice chimed from the tiny receiver.

Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say that things have gotten… complicated,” she said. Her eyes were hard when she looked at Elijah. “In fact, why don’t you speak to one of those complications?” She held out the phone. “Here.”

Elijah took the phone from her and watched her walk around to the passenger side before putting the phone to his ear. “Complication speaking,” he greeted, amused.

There was a small, surprised pause before Klaus’ voice was in his ear. “Big brother.” His grin was apparent in his tone. “At last you join the fray.”

“Somebody had to take charge.” He looked at Rebekah pointedly over the hood of the car; the blonde rolled her eyes, wrenching the door open and getting in. “Now that I have, I’ve got the Cure, and I’m bringing it back to Mystic Falls.”

“With a long list of demands, I assume.”

Elijah slid behind the wheel and shut the door. His eyes landed on the rearview mirror, where Elena met his gaze with a soft smile. He smiled back as he answered, “Not that long.”

“Come home, brother,” Klaus said after a moment. “We’ll settle this like family.”

The line went dead, and he handed the phone back to his sister so that he could start the car.

“Well, we have a long drive ahead of us,” he said with a smirk. “Who wants to fill me in on what’s happened with the Mystic Falls Gang while I’ve been gone?”

Elena laughed, high and bright, and he grinned into the mirror as they drove off into the night.


	9. To Be or Not to Be (Human)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think I would make a good human?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Rebekah Mikaelson, Mature Discussions About Important Decisions, A Choice You Can’t Take Back, AKA Elena is the Only One with Initiative Around Here

“Can I ask you something?”

Rebekah flipped a page in her textbook, not bothering to look up. “You just did,” she intoned.

Elena waited, leaning against the entryway to the dining room.

It was still strange, living in the Mikaelson mansion.

Or, well—not _living_ there. Staying there. Temporarily.

Regardless, it was weird, even after almost a week. Mostly because the place was _huge_. Like, yeah, it was a mansion, and that entailed a certain amount of space (subjective as the actual definition may be), but Elena guessed she could probably fit the Gilbert House within these walls at least three or four dozen times.

Some parts of the building were designated as belonging to one of Klaus’ siblings. Or his mother. Elena was only really allowed in Elijah’s and Rebekah’s “rooms”—plural for both of them—and she especially wasn’t permitted near the areas dedicated to any of the deceased Originals.

“Her” room was technically in Elijah’s part of the house, something Klaus wasn’t particularly happy about. Something about misuse of guest rooms? She hadn’t really been listening at that point, too focused on Rebekah demanding that Elena borrow some of her clothes until she could go shopping for more.

(“We’ll need to go shopping for Prom, anyway,” the youngest Original had declared. “We’ll get you new clothes to wear then, as well—I know the ones you have now must be irritating.”

She wasn’t wrong, but Elena was used to it. She’d never thought to complain.

“So you can borrow some of mine. For now.”

Elena hadn’t had it in her to argue.)

The house technically had three dining rooms; one for banquets (which she wasn’t allowed to go into), one for family dinner (which no one went into anymore since half the family was dead), and this one, for smaller dinner parties.

Rebekah usually chose this room for studying, claiming that her bedroom was too distracting. The day before, when Elena had invited her to do her physics homework with her, the blonde had insisted that she would get too distracted by Elijah’s study-slash-library down the hall and dragged her downstairs to work at the dining table.

It hadn’t taken long for Elena to find her when she realized she wasn’t in her room.

After a solid minute, Rebekah sighed and leaned back in her chair to look at her. “Fine,” she huffed, as if it were the biggest chore in the world to have a conversation. “What do you want?”

“Why do you want the Cure?”

The blonde drew back slightly, taken aback. “Is that a trick question?” she asked. “I want to be human.”

“Obviously.” Elena nodded. “But why? So you can have kids? There’s no guarantee it’ll give you that. So you can die? I’m sure if we looked hard enough, we could find the white oak stake. So you can fall in love? Love is stronger as a vampire, and you can be together forever.” She shrugged. “So why do you want to be human? I know why I would, but you’ve been a vampire for sixty-some times the length of your human life. Do you even remember what it was like?”

“I don’t need to,” she spat. “I know what it’s like—I see it every day. It’s hard, and it’s trying, and it’s exhausting, but it’s beautiful and perfect and _worth it_.” Her eyes flashed with determination. “Every single day of survival, it would be worth it. Filled with meaning, like life as a vampire could never be.”

Elena nodded, thoughtful, and pushed off from the wall. She sat in the seat across from her, hands folded on the table.

“What if you take the Cure, and then years from now you fall in love with a vampire?” she asked, curious and blunt. “Would you abandon them to their eternity, just so you could live and die for nothing?”

Rebekah frowned. “I… I would never make that mistake again.”

“You said it yourself,” Elena pointed out, “you can’t help when you catch feelings. It just happens. So if it did…”

The blonde sighed and turned away.

Elena tilted her head. “Hasn’t there ever been someone you wanted to spend eternity with? Besides Stefan.”

Her lips pursed. “Twice,” she said quietly. “Both in New Orleans.”

“Tell me about them?” It was a request rather than a demand.

“The first one was in 1820,” Rebekah began. “He was the Governor’s son, his name was Emil, and he was perfect. We were perfectly in love, and I wanted to turn him.” She snorted. “Nik said no, of course—he tried to say it was because I fell in love too easily, but it was really only because he’s never truly believed anyone to be good enough for me.”

Elena shook her head. “Brothers,” she muttered fondly.

“Brothers,” the other vampire agreed. “Nik killed him. Then he adopted this little slave boy, Emil’s half-brother, after we saw him being beaten by a slave-master. Nik called him Marcellus, after the god of war or something. ‘It means little warrior.’” She swallowed, looking away briefly as her eyes went glassy. “I taught him to fence; he grew into a handsome man, and he kept swearing that one day he would beat me and ask me to marry him.”

She shook her head, smiling down at the table. “Nik was furious when he found out. Forbade us from seeing each other. Of course, that didn’t stop us. He caught us together and daggered me as punishment.” Her gaze was hard when she looked up. “He gave Marcel a choice; undagger me and live out his days as a mortal to die of old age, or leave me and become a vampire. He chose wrong. Of course, I didn’t know that until half a century later, when I woke up to find Nik looking smug and Marcel looking guilty.”

Elena frowned. That seemed—extreme, even for Klaus. Just because he was… what? Jealous? Upset that they went behind his back? That didn’t give him the right to kill his sister. Something wasn’t right with this story.

Rebekah scoffed, crossing her arms. “Like I said. I won’t make the mistake again.”

“But if you did?”

She sighed. “If I did,” she grit out, “I would make the change if he asked, yes.”

“And what if you can’t?” Elena challenged. “There’s only ever been one Cure—we have no idea what it does. What if you can never drink vampire blood again, never make the change. How long could you really put it off?”

Rebekah grimaced. “I guess I’d cross that bridge if I got to it.” She glared at her. “Why are you so curious about my reasons?” she asked, eyes narrow.

Elena shrugged and glided her fingers over the grain of the table. “We might not be best friends,” she said softly, “but I’ve known you for a while now. You’re not impulsive, per se—you just do a lot of things and save the regret for later.”

She looked up, eyes intense as she stared at the blonde across the table.

“It’s not something you’ll necessarily get the chance to make right,” she continued, stern, “and I don’t want you to regret your decision.” Her mouth twisted slightly, almost wry. “You have a habit of taking your anger out on the wrong people, and I don’t want to see you lose any more people than you already have. You don’t deserve to go through it again. No one does, really.” She sighed. “I get that you’ve been hoping for this cure for centuries, and that you want to live a normal life, but you need to take the time to think about what being human will mean for _you_. Your future, your life. Not what you’ve seen other people have, how they live. How _you_ would.”

Elena stood and turned to the door. Rebekah’s voice was small, but it stopped her in her tracks.

“Do you think I would make a good human?”

Elena turned back to the table; the Original sister wasn’t looking at her, instead staring at the book lying open in front of her.

The young vampire just tilted her head. “Honestly?”

Rebekah looked up and nodded, and Elena shook her head.

“No, I don’t think you would make a good human. You feel everything so deeply, love completely, and you never let anything get in your way. You’re the perfect vampire, and it has nothing to do with acting like you’re above everything. I know that’s what you told Stefan when he asked you about the Cure. You’re not a perfect vampire because of what you pretend to be—you’re a perfect vampire because of what you pretend _not_ to be. What you hide from everyone else and don’t let many people see.”

Elena smiled, a sad tinge to it.

“No human body could ever hope to encompass you.”

Rebekah didn’t say anything, eyes wide and unseeing, and Elena left her to her thoughts.


	10. Klaus Gets a Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why is she even here?” he demanded, looking back to his brother. “This is a family matter, and family she is not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, The Debate 4x19 Pictures of You, Exactly What’s in the Tin, Klaus Can Be a Moron But He’s Not Stupid

“Silas can appear as anyone,” Klaus said, serious. “He got inside my thoughts, convinced me I was dying. He will torment me until I give him the Cure.”

“And as soon as he gets it, he’ll break down the wall to the Other Side,” Elena said, incredulous, from her standing position by the door.

She, Elijah, and Klaus were meeting to discuss the next step, i.e. what they should do with the Cure now that Elijah had it. Rebekah should have been there, but seeing as she now had no interest in owning the vial herself—thanks to Elena, not that she was bragging or looking for praise or needing to take the credit or anything, honestly, though Klaus could do with a reminder—she’d chosen to go gallivanting through town on a shopping spree instead. Which was fine, but that left Elena to take her place in the meeting.

Needless to say, it was _not_ going well.

“So it doesn’t trap him there when he dies,” Klaus defended. “He wants to reunite with his lost Soul Mate.” The hybrid raised a brow at his elder brother. “You, of all lovesick fools, should applaud his devotion. Just look at you now.”

Elijah didn’t respond, but Elena grit her teeth around a growl at the insinuation. “If the wall comes down, the floodgates will open—every supernatural being that has ever died will be free to roam the Earth.”

“Including our dear brothers, Kol and Finn,” Klaus said, not looking away from the man across the table. “We’ll have our family back. Don’t you want that, brother?” He raised a brow at the Doppelgänger. “And your brother is over there, as well, I presume, and your late guardian—you should be thrilled to have them back, I would think.”

“Of course I would, but that’s not the _point_.” Elena threw up her arms, exasperated, and brushed her hair back in frustration. “God, Klaus, I get that family is important to the three of you—it is to me, too, you know that—but come _on_. Are you forgetting who else is over there?” Her hands landed on her hips as she sent him a challenging look. “I’ll give you a hint: if my brother comes back, all the others like him will, too. Gonna get your sister killed by her ex-fiancé? _Again_?”

“Should any of the Five appear, they shall be dealt with swiftly and without repercussions for any vampires,” Klaus said, voice rising. “There are ways around the laws.”

“You’d rather be tormented by potentially dozens of vampire hunters _and_ your dead hybrids than deal with one measly psychic?” She shook her head. “It’s not worth it, Klaus. We can figure something else out.”

“Why is she even here?” he demanded, looking back to his brother. “This is a family matter, and _family_ she is _not_.”

Elijah finally broke his silence. “She is here because I wish her to be, Niklaus,” he said, firm. “And because she is the one that took the initiative needed in the last week to convince our sister _not_ to abandon her family for mortality.” He eyed the empty chair between them where Rebekah should have been. “Besides, we needed a third party for a meaningful discussion.”

Klaus fumed silently for a moment, refusing to look at either of them. Then he whirled on them. “And what do the two of you suggest we do, if not give it to Silas?” he demanded. “Force it down Katerina’s throat, perhaps? Or maybe Stefan’s—you’ve always thought he was a terrible vampire, haven’t you, Elena?”

She shook her head. “No one is shoving anything down anyone’s throat,” she snapped.

Elijah nodded in agreement. “Indeed, it would seem we are at an impasse. I don’t believe your personal discomfort is quite sufficient enough reason for putting the entire world in jeopardy, Klaus.”

Klaus’ face fell. “Tell me you’re joking,” he said softly, deadly calm. Then, demanding, “Tell me you’re not fating me to an eternity of torture.”

Elijah didn’t confirm or deny it; he only tilted his head and told him, “I’ve made my decision.”

In a second, Klaus was out of his chair and across the room. He pinned Elena to the wall by her throat.

“You see, brother,” he said cheerily as Elijah’s chair screeched and he stood, “if it had been _Rebekah_ , our _dear_ sister, that you sided with, well—I could forgive that. I’d even let her live.” He smirked as she gasped for air and clawed at his hand, her toes scratching for purchase as they dangled an inch above the floor. His eyes glowed golden-yellow. “But to betray me for _her_? For this _child_ who has let you down _again_ and _again_ in the last year? That is not forgivable.”

Suddenly, just as his venom-laced fangs descended and he dove toward her for a bite, his hand released her throat, and he was thrown backward into the opposite wall.

Elijah caught her by the arm, shielding her slightly as she coughed and sputtered. “You will not touch her again, Niklaus,” he warned. She could hardly see his face from this angle, but she could have sworn she saw veins wriggling beneath his skin; it suddenly occurred to her that she had never seen him vamp out, not once in over a year. Even if it was an illusion, his expression was surely as cold as she’d ever seen it, fierce in his anger. “ _Ever_. Do we understand each other?”

Elena watched as the hybrid pushed himself up to stand, brushing off his arms with an odd expression. The disdain and smugness that had been there moments before was gone, replaced with something that flickered between surprise, incredulity, curiosity, and irritation, as his eyes moved between the two across the room.

Elijah took his silence as confirmation, relaxing only slightly and continuing, “We will figure out a way to deal with Silas. I’ll help you if I must—but if you lay a hand on Elena in anger again, there will be consequences. And not just from me.”

His gaze was pointed, and Klaus stepped back, glowering. “Fine,” he growled, still eyeing the two of them warily. He seemed almost… _frustrated_ by their closeness, which was confusing. “But if and when Silas comes after you,” he spat, “don’t expect my help, either.”

He sped away, and Elena leaned against the wall as her throat healed.

Elijah rubbed her arm gently, his other hand tilting her chin up so that he could look at her neck. Klaus had come uncomfortably close with his fangs, but he thankfully hadn’t managed to scrape her skin before Elijah came to her rescue.

Elena smiled up at the elder Original. “You Mikaelsons and your family drama,” she mused teasingly, voice still rough even as the redness and irritation faded from her throat.

He gave her a wry grin, the last of his anger draining from his eyes. “I do hate to inform you,” he said casually, “but you’ve daggered two of us and killed two others. I do believe that qualifies you to an honorary degree, at the very least.”

Elena just laughed—slightly hysterically, if she were being completely honest—and leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes and letting him hold her for a moment. They hadn’t really touched at all in the week since their return from Willoughby, or even really spent any time together at all, but it was almost too easy and familiar to relax into his arms. There was just something comforting about being wrapped up so completely in his presence.

Later, this would be a moment she looked back on and wondered how she didn’t see it sooner.

How could she not realize she was already in love with him then?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (BTW basically everyone mentioned as being on the Other Side is going to make an appearance in this story. Eventually.)


	11. Let's Make a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, Klaus. It would be nice to not be at each other’s throats constantly, so I’m making an attempt at peace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x19 Pictures of You, Protective Elena Gilbert, Sort-Of Forgiveness, Mature Discussion of Relationships All Around, She’s Trying Here

It had been three weeks since the argument between Elijah and Klaus—a month since Willoughby—and suddenly it was April and the night of Prom was fast approaching.

Elena had hardly bothered to go to school since she got back, only returning to “explain” the situation to her teachers and turn in her late work and some extra credit. Honestly, she’d barely left the mansion except to meet up with various friends once or twice a week, always one-on-one, or two or three at the most, to repair some of her relationships.

She didn’t have the option to sit at home when it came to Prom.

Rebekah and Bonnie, in a strange moment of uncoordinated agreement, had both threatened her with bodily harm and the emotional trauma of an all-day shopping trip if she didn’t turn up at some point. It was extremely unsettling, how similar their pep talks had been. Elena vowed she would never mention it to either of them, but she also wrote the whole thing in her new diary so she would never forget.

On the day of the Prom, after helping Rebekah pick out a dress, Elena spent a few hours with Elijah in his study. Well, really, it was less of a study than it was a library, and Elena had been pleased to find that Elijah’s taste in books was similar to her own. He had a first edition of _The Waste Land_ , for starters, which she was poring over as she waited for it to be time to get ready.

The last three weeks had been filled with evenings like this—peaceful, easy, quiet between just the two of them. Elijah wasn’t around all the time, often in meetings out of town during the day or late at night, but when he was at home, it never took them very long to seek each other out. He’d sit in the armchair closest to the window as he read or wrote in his journal, and she would lounge on the leather sofa nearby while she read her book or listened to him read something aloud. He did that, sometimes, when he was reading something that he thought she might like; his voice had this fascinating, soothing quality to it that made stories more interesting than they might usually be.

Tonight, though, their time together would soon end; it was almost time for her to get ready. Nearly three hours had passed without her realizing. She couldn’t hear Rebekah anywhere in the house, which meant she must have left at some point.

[Downstairs, the front door slammed. A familiar voice rang out, and Elena lifted her head from the book in her lap, smirking at Elijah’s surprised expression.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021750/chapters/52553554)

“Klaus?” There was no reply, and the voice rose in volume. “Klaus! Kla— _Hell-oh?_ Did you not hear me?”

The hybrid’s voice was dry when he responded. “Of course I heard you, Caroline. I think the whole of Mystic Falls heard you. I’m in no mood for company.”

Elena rolled her eyes; Elijah’s mouth twitched.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re having _personal issues_ , but I have a _real_ crisis on my hands,” Caroline snarked back.

Elena had to clap a hand over her mouth to stave off a snort. She knew exactly what she was about to say.

“Somebody _stole_ my prom dress,” she said, scandalized. Then, slower and angrier as she paced across the room, she continued to explain, “I went to pick it up, and the tailor said that somebody else already did. And when I asked who, she said she couldn’t remember.”

Klaus said nothing, and Caroline scoffed in frustration.

“Hello?” she retorted. “The vervain is out of the town’s water supply. She had to be compelled! Which means it was either Elena or your sister, both of whom are currently living under _your_ roof.”

This time, Klaus snorted. It turned into full-blown laughter a second later, and Caroline huffed. Elena stifled a grin in her shoulder when Elijah shot her a raised brow.

“It’s _not_. _Funny_ ,” Caroline said, tone ice cold.

“No, I know,” Klaus said through his laughter. He cleared his throat, still chuckling. “I know.”

“Then stop laughing!”

“Sorry.” It stopped.

Caroline sighed. “Look, I know Prom isn’t important to you, but it’s important to me.”

And just as Elena predicted, she managed to convince Klaus to help her stun the student body with a gown fit for a queen. Elena grinned as she listened to her best friend gush over the dress as she let Klaus escort her outside and to her car.

Once the sound of the vehicle disappeared, it took less than three seconds for the knock on the door to come.

“Come in,” Elijah called. He closed his book and set it aside, clearly amused and interested to see how this would play out.

Klaus threw the French doors open with his usual flair, catching them before they could bang against the wall. He leaned against the threshold, arms crossed and gaze intense as it immediately landed on Elena.

The young vampire turned the page and didn’t look at him as she said blandly, “Stop staring at me like that. I was doing you a favor.”

“And what favor would that be, love?” he retorted.

Now she did glance up, cocking her head to the side as she stared at him blankly. “You,” she emphasized, “are in love with Caroline.” She shook her head when he went to protest. “You can deny it all you want, but I know the truth. I know that’s why you saved her life. Not once, but twice now—three if you count the thing with Alaric.”

She frowned deeply, staring him down. He only grimaced and looked away briefly before waving for her to continue.

“I know you’re in love with Caroline, and I know Caroline. She’s convinced herself that she has to stay loyal to Tyler, but one of these days she’s going to realize that they aren’t ever going to work. Personally, I hope it’s sooner rather than later, but that’s none of my business, so I mostly stay out of it.”

“Why do you say that?” Elijah asked, curious.

Elena shrugged. “I love Tyler, and we’ve all been friends our whole lives, but he’s being a dick,” she said bluntly. “If he could let go of his vendetta, _maybe_ they could work it out, but that’s not who Tyler is. Never has been, probably never will be. Once Caroline realizes that, it’ll be better for everyone if she already has someone to fall back on. She needs a friend she can count on, someone she cares about and who cares for her the same.”

She looked meaningfully at Klaus.

“Right now, she has feelings for both you and Stefan. I’m doing you a _favor_ ,” she said pointedly, “by forcing her to lean more toward you than toward Stefan.” She shrugged and looked back at her book. “I’m also doing Stefan a favor. I mean, a) he could never handle the mess that is Caroline in a romantic relationship, and b) I know he’s already _jonesin’_ to get out of town, and that’ll be easier to do if he doesn’t start something before he leaves.”

Both brothers were silent, staring at her, for several long minutes. Finally, Elena huffed and closed her book.

“Look, Klaus,” she said to him, “Elijah and I are working on something. You’re Elijah’s brother. It would be _nice_ to not be at each other’s _throats_ constantly, so I’m making an attempt at peace. Take it or leave it, make a move or don’t, I don’t actually care unless you screw it up and hurt Caroline in the process.”

A pointed glare. He nodded in concession, and she shrugged.

“Other than that—not saying I’ve forgiven you for all the horrible things you’ve done to me and my family, and you might never forgive me for the things I did to yours, but we’re all vampires here. You can’t kill me without betraying Elijah and damaging the relationship you’re building with Caroline, and Elijah gave you the only thing that could kill you, not that I would have used it anyway, because again— _betraying him_. And, also… you aren’t that bad, when you’re not all murder-y. We’re all basically stuck with each other for eternity; might as well _suck it up_.”

Elena stood, replacing her book on its shelf. “I need to get ready, myself.” She pat Elijah on the shoulder as she passed his chair, smiling at him when he reached up to touch her hand lightly. “I’ll see you later,” she murmured.

At the door, she put her hand on her hip and stared at Klaus until he moved from the doorway. As she passed, he caught her elbow.

For a second, he was quiet. Then he looked over at her and simply said, “Thank you.”

He released her arm, and she nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Then she sped off to get ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a bit of a timeline shift from the show's canon (or at least what the timeline on the wiki says is canon, though I'm a little skeptical on whether that's all correct), so for those paying attention to this sort of thing, I just want to clarify (yes I know that my dates won't match with the lunar calendar but it's a fictional world, anyway, so who's to say theirs would match with ours?):  
> \- 23-26 January (Sunday-Wednesday night) - "Into the Wild"/"Down the Rabbit Hole"  
> \- 28-30 January - "Stand by Me", Elena flips switch/burns house down on the 30th  
> \- 5 February (Saturday night) - "Bring It On", "it's only been a couple days" conversation  
> \- 14 February (Monday) - "Bring It On", "going back to school" conversation/adventure  
> \- 18 February (Friday night) - "Bring It On", Elena throws a party/fights Caroline, Klaus/Hayley get "close"  
> \- 19-21 February (Saturday morning-Monday morning) - "Bring It On"/"Because the Night", Elena/Damon explore NYC, Bonnie completes Expression Triangle, start of Elena/Rebekah road trip, Klaus/Caroline have a spat while burying bodies  
> \- 1-2 March (Tuesday-very very early Wednesday morning) - "American Gothic" (aka Ch 1-8), Rebekah and Elena have been on the road for a week before Willoughby, The Kiss/Humanity, Blood-Sharing, last Kalijah convo/Klaus phone call/starting back to MF around 1am  
> \- 2 March-2 April - Elena moves into Mikaelson mansion/makes amends, barely goes to school except to turn in assignments, doesn't talk to many people but is trying to mend fences  
> \- 8 March - (Ch 9) Elena convinces Rebekah to let go of the Cure  
> \- 12 March (Saturday) - "Pictures of You", (Ch 10), Elijah/Elena/Klaus meeting  
> \- 2 April (Saturday) - "Pictures of You", (Ch 11-13), Prom, Klaus finds Katherine's letter
> 
> \- TVD4x20/TO1x1 will mostly occur b/t April 3rd and April 6th, the very end with them back in NOLA around April 8th (Klaus says Thierry will be dead by the weekend, and he looks pretty bad, so it checks out because the 8th was a Friday)
> 
> I'll probably update this in later chapters, just to keep from spoiling anything here and now, so watch out for those changes.


	12. Prom Shenaniganery (Guest Starring Tyler Lockwood as a Gate-Crasher)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Tyler Lockwood, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x19 Pictures of You, Protective Elena Gilbert

Prom was… nice. Really nice.

The moment Elena walked through the door to the gymnasium, she was practically accosted by her friends; she had spent a little time with each of them over the last few weeks, but those had been small, private occasions that didn’t last more than half an hour before she was disappearing back into her sanctuary again. Now, they all crowded around and formed a strange sort of group hug around her that was both comforting and suffocating. Once they had parted, Elena spent a bit of time with each of them.

First was Caroline. Elena made sure to apologize profusely for stealing her dress, but she also told her it was for her own good.

“You deserve to look like a queen, Care, and I knew you would if you let him help.”

The blonde had seemed more upset by the fact that she wasn’t even _wearing_ it, instead clad in a deep carmine princess dress, than she was over having to borrow one from Klaus. Elena gave her a knowing look and watched her face flush in indignation.

Next came Bonnie; that was slightly awkward, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. She wanted to make things better, but she didn’t know how. Their conversation was stilted at best before Elena got frustrated and just pulled her into a close hug. It was a little better after that.

Elena danced with Stefan and Damon, both of whom tried to convince her to return to the Boarding House with them. She told them she needed more time, but she got the feeling they knew she’d already made up her mind. While that wasn’t exactly true, it wasn’t _untrue_ , either; she didn’t know what she would be doing from now on, but she definitely wouldn’t be running back to them anytime soon.

After that, Elena danced with Matt, who smiled and told her she was pretty, that he was happy to see her back to normal. Elena had laughed and pushed him over into Rebekah, waving at the Original teasingly when she glared at her.

She watched the two blondes dance together, and Caroline and Stefan—even Damon and Bonnie, which was extremely entertaining. She watched as Matt and Bonnie were elected Prom King and Queen, clapping and cheering and catcalling as was appropriate for her status as best friend.

And then Bonnie had her little lapse in control, yelling and screaming about Silas and Jeremy and all the magic she could feel, and everything quickly went to hell.

By the time it was over, the courtyard looked like a tornado had hit. Bonnie was passed out from exhaustion, blood gushing from her nose and running down her face. Both Damon and Stefan were picking splinters out of their chests, cursing Silas all the while. Even Caroline and Matt were freaking out, and Elena had to compel April out of a bout of hyperventilation.

Elena stuck around to make sure everyone was okay, especially Bonnie, before she and Caroline went to set up for the afterparty.

Matt had invited Elena into the Lockwood mansion when she got back to town with the Originals, wary at first but quickly growing used to her new countenance.

Tyler was waiting for Caroline with a white bouquet in his hands when the two friends came in with their arms loaded down with supplies.

Elena frowned when she saw him, setting her bags down and crossing her arms as she stepped slightly in front of Caroline defensively. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I came to surprise my girlfriend for Prom,” he answered, tone clipped.

His eyes didn’t leave the blonde, who grinned brightly, running to hug him. “Tyler,” she whispered.

“Hey.” He drew back, handing her the flowers. “These are for you.”

Caroline took them, smile bright and fond, and Elena sighed heavily. She pointed at Tyler, her glare hard and fiery enough to make him flinch.

“ _Don’t_ make me regret leaving you two alone, Lockwood,” she warned. “If I find out you broke her heart again, Klaus’ isn’t the only vendetta you’ll have to worry about.”

He opened his mouth to reply; she was gone before he made a sound.


	13. Because Of Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess you’re going to New Orleans, then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x19 Pictures of You, Elena Probably Shouldn’t Have Gone from Zero to a Thousand In One Night, Klaus Is Kind of Impulsive But That’s Okay

Elena wasn’t really in an afterparty sort of mood after the long night of socializing with her friends and classmates. It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to go straight from one-on-one contact to seeing literally almost everyone she had ever known in the space of a few hours.

She _definitely_ didn’t want to hang around to see Caroline floating on her _Tyler paid attention to me for five seconds_ bliss, so she returned to the mansion still in her dress shortly after midnight. Elijah barely greeted her—with a smile and an affectionate kiss to her cheek—before he rushed off to a clandestine meeting across town.

“Nothing to worry about,” he’d told her as he buttoned his jacket. “I’ll be back within the hour.”

She said it was fine, returning the smile and accepting his compliment on her dress, and saw him out. Then she closed the door and went to grab a book from his library—and a blanket from her room—before returning to the sitting room and taking a seat in front of the fire, not bothering to change out of her gown.

Barely half an hour later, a shadow passed in front of her. When she glanced up, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see Katherine standing in front of her. Neither said anything, both watching each other warily for a long moment. Elena watched some sort of emotion flicker across her twin’s face briefly before the woman turned and walked over to the bar behind them.

Katherine propped an envelope between a glass and the decanter of bourbon sitting there. She sent Elena one last glance, this one full of what she thought was heartache and disdain, before disappearing from the house.

Elena just sat there, watching the spot she disappeared from, utterly confused and extremely worried.

[She was still sitting there when Klaus got home, presumably from seeing Caroline for one reason or another, and watched as he went straight for the alcohol.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021750/chapters/52553476)

“Katherine was here,” she blurted.

Klaus barely glanced at her as he moved to the bar. She looked over her shoulder to watch him, nodding to the platter set aside from the rest of the alcohol.

“She left that for you.”

Elena watched as he picked up the letter and unsealed it, saw his face cloud over with curiosity, confusion, amusement, and anger as he read through it. When he finished, he slowly sat beside her on the couch, tapping the side of the refolded letter against the palm of his hand.

After a moment, he wordlessly handed the page to her, his gaze staying on the fire in front of them. She took it gently, setting her book aside on her lap to flip the letter open and read through it.

_Klaus,_

_I hear Elijah has refused you the Cure, and in return, you have refused me my freedom. Not that he tried too much in the first place, moving onto the newer model and all. Shame on all of you._

_But while you boys sort out your problems, I have one last thing to offer you. I’ve caught wind that there is a witch in New Orleans named Jane-Anne Deveraux plotting a move against you. Hunt her down. What she has to say will rattle you so deeply to your core that chasing little old me will be the least of your concerns._

_It’s been a fun five centuries, Klaus, but I’ve worn down too many good heels running from you._

_Love, and hate,_

_Katerina_

Her brow rose steadily with each sentence she absorbed, and she snorted lightly when she reached the end. “Typical Katherine,” she muttered, closing it.

She set in on the table in front of them and turned to Klaus, who made no noise or gesture of acknowledgment.

Elena sighed. “I guess you’re going to New Orleans, then?” He nodded, jaw tight, and she shook her head and went back to her book. “I’ll let Elijah know,” she said casually. “You can probably catch a flight tonight if you need to.”

Her eyes flickered to him briefly before returning to her page.

“And I’ll let Caroline know you’re out of town. She might even miss you.”


	14. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A baby,” Rebekah deadpanned. “My brother got a girl pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 The Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Protective Elena Gilbert, Worried Elena Gilbert, Elena is Struggling

The next morning—edging closer to late afternoon, really, not that it mattered—she woke to the sound of Rebekah arguing loudly with Elijah down the hall.

“What the hell is Klaus doing there?” she demanded.

“Evidently, there are witches conspiring against him,” he mused. “So, knowing our brother, this was a mission to silence and slaughter.”

Elena rolled her eyes, yawning as she slipped out of bed and into the kitchen in two seconds flat. She watched her mug of blood rotate in the microwave for a few moments before shaking herself and moving to get another cup, filling that one with coffee from the pot warming on the maker.

Over the last several weeks, Elijah had developed an uncanny ability to detect when she was close to waking. It wasn’t exactly _normal_ to find coffee waiting when she emerged from her room, but it wasn’t uncommon, either.

It was strange. Not something Stefan or Damon had ever really done. She wondered if it was an Original thing or just an _Elijah_ thing. Or an _Elijah and Elena_ thing.

Elena shook her head, clearing her thoughts again as she added creamer to her coffee.

“Well, the French Quarter witches are not a lot to be trifled with,” Rebekah said. “You don’t suppose they’ve found a way to kill him once and for all, do you?”

The Doppelgänger snorted into her cup. The microwave beeped, and she traded one mug for another. The blood was downed in one long gulp, and she sipped her caffeine slowly as she rinsed the other glass out in the sink. That done, she approached the office where the two Originals were chatting.

“Rebekah, in the name of our family, you might try to dial down your glee,” Elijah scolded.

Elena watched as his sister scoffed into her bourbon.

“What family?” Rebekah asked, derisive. “We’re three distrustful acquaintances who happen to share a bloodline.” She rolled her eyes and gestured vaguely between the two. “I, for one, hope they’ve found a way to make that traitorous bastard rot.”

Elena rolled her own eyes, leaning next to Elijah against the desk. “Klaus is your brother,” she said sternly. “No matter what you say, no matter what you do to try to ignore it, you’re stuck with him.” She stared at the blonde pointedly. “You said you gave up the Cure because you realized you’d lose your family and be left alone. So prove it. Be a family—make the effort. Klaus needs you.”

She paused and hid a smile behind her mug, taking another sip of coffee before adding cheerily, “And if Katherine’s telling the truth… your family is about to get a little bit bigger.”

Rebekah choked on her own drink, sputtering and covering her mouth. “What the hell are you going on about?”

Elena cocked her head to the side and hummed. “Oh, just something Katherine let slip to Stefan last night—who then called me to drop a hint.” She flicked a look to the man next to her. “It was after she dropped her letter off, and after I talked to Elijah. Woke me up.” She pouted, though her lips twitched with a grin.

Elijah crossed his arms and looked at her with a raised brow. “Would you care to enlighten us?”

She shrugged. “Just that apparently— _supposedly_ , I’m getting this passed down through at least four sets of ears—hybrids aren’t quite as barren as the rest of us vampires.”

“A baby,” Rebekah deadpanned. “My brother got a girl pregnant.”

“Specifically, that werewolf girl, Hayley or whatever,” Elena confirmed. “Didn’t get a chance to tell Klaus before he was jetting off. But I figure you two won’t be far behind, so… I’ll let you handle that little bombshell.”

“Not me,” Rebekah muttered into her glass.

Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Stay here. I’ll call you if the need arises.” He pushed off from the desk and made for the door.

Rebekah raised a brow, turning to watch as he passed her. “Where are you going?”

“To find out who’s making a move against our brother,” he intoned. He paused in the doorway, sighing. “And then… I’ll either stop them… or I’ll help them.” He shook his head as he left the room, adding, “Depending on my mood.”

Elena giggled, finishing off her drink. Rebekah turned to look at her with an incredulous look, gesturing after her brother. The brunette just shrugged in response and went to refill her mug.

* * *

Elijah was packing a bag—just in case—when there was a soft knock on his door.

He smiled a bit before calling gently, “Come in, Elena.”

The brunette wasted no time, slipping in and closing the door with a soft _click_. She still wore her pajamas—sleep shorts and a soft grey cashmere sweater she had borrowed from Rebekah and had no intention of returning. She looked too fragile to touch for a moment before she straightened into the girl he knew.

“Hey,” she said quietly. Her gaze turned uncertain and worried as it flickered between him and the suitcase resting on the end of his bed. “Are you really gonna be gone that long?”

Elijah shook his head, closing the flap and zipping the bag in one swift motion. “Not likely,” he assured her as she came to stand at his side. “However, knowing Niklaus, it’s always best to be prepared for anything.”

Elena sighed and nodded. “I guess,” she agreed, halfhearted.

His mouth twitched at the slight despondence in her tone. Her head tilted to meet his gaze with a smile, and that was as thin as her acquiescence.

“Before he left, I told Klaus to be careful,” she said, almost casual but falling just short. “Going on some wild-goose chase because of Katherine… No way it ends well.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think he took me seriously.”

“Doubtful,” he conceded. There was only one person currently living that had any chance of getting through to his brother. “Though you have a point.”

He reached out to take her hand, holding it in his.

They kept putting it off, this thing between them, but he knew they would need to talk about it eventually. There was something strange about it, their dynamic. Always had been. Lately, though, it had gotten more pronounced. At first, he might have put it down as his blood still circulating through her system, but now…

He’d always felt a pull to be in her presence, but now he had to catch himself nearly every time they were around each other. Sometimes, like at this very moment, he couldn’t resist the urge to touch her, to be close, and that might become an issue once she made her choice.

“I apologize for not returning home sooner last night,” he murmured. His thumb moved across her knuckles in a soothing motion. “It wasn’t my intention to be gone for so long. I didn’t think Katherine would be so bold.”

Elena tsked. “It’s fine, Elijah.” She shook her head. “She woulda done something sooner or later, whether you were out or not. I’m sure your meeting last night rattled her.”

Elijah fought the grin pulling at his lips—he was only moderately successful. He hadn’t told Elena who he was meeting, but he shouldn’t have been surprised that she had put the pieces together.

“Even so,” he insisted, “you should not have been left to deal with Niklaus’ impulsiveness on your own. Especially when you had such an adventurous night.” He paused, hesitating, before he asked gently, “How was the dance?”

Her lips pursed, and she glanced away. “It was… nice,” she said slowly, carefully. “Really nice. Fun.”

“And?” he pressed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re holding back?”

Elena shrugged lightly before her shoulders sagged. “It was just…” She trailed, searching for the words. “…a lot,” she settled on finally, meeting his gaze once more. “I think I played myself. That is,” she added quickly, “I think my mistake was being so isolated for the last few weeks, only seeing people one or two at a time, and then last night—with everyone—it was just—”

“A lot,” he echoed, smiling gently and squeezing her hand. “It’s understandable, Elena. You’ve been through a lot in the last several months, and reacclimating yourself can be difficult after long periods of isolation.” His other hand came up to touch her cheek lightly. “It _does_ get easier.”

The girl nodded, smile a bit brighter than it had been, and squeezed his hand in hers before biting her lip and looking away.

“I guess you have to go,” she muttered. She shifted slightly, almost nervous. “Just… don’t let Klaus get you two into too much trouble, yeah?” Her fingers picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “I know he’s your brother, but—I mean—well, you—” She stuttered to a stop, giving a frustrated huff as she crossed her arms, releasing his hand in the process.

Elijah shook his head, cupping her face in his hands and tilting her chin to kiss her just over her brow.

“Elena.”

That one word held it all, right there, and he smiled when he felt her relax and move closer to wrap her arms around him. She sighed, easy and content, before releasing him and stepping away.

Her mouth popped open as if to say something, but it shut just as quickly. Instead, she smiled and pat him gently on the arm.

“Have a nice trip,” she murmured.

And then she was gone.


	15. A Conversation and a Decent Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “All told, he has a long history of getting himself into trouble.”
> 
> “And I’m guessing you have a long history of getting him out of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elijah Mikaelson, Camille O’Connell, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 The Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Elijah Likes To Make References He Knows No One Will Get, Elijah Finally Meets Cami, Ooh Look More Symptoms Yay

If he didn’t know any better, Elijah would have thought he was coming down with a bug.

The feeling had started the moment his plane was in the air and headed for New Orleans, but the ride wasn’t the cause. Even after he landed, it was still there; worse, even, the further into the city he drove.

It wasn’t that he felt sick. There was just a strange feeling flowing through him. A tightness in his chest, an itch beneath his skin—he felt _off_ in ways he hadn’t since he became a vampire.

He ignored it as best he could once he was in the city, too focused on the task at hand.

Being back in the Quarter reminded Elijah of the first time they arrived, back in the eighteenth century. It had been a simpler, happier, bloodier time for his family.

They had the village in the beginning, of course, but they weren’t there for long following their transition, especially after essentially slaughtering everyone and running out of food.

Then came France, then England, then Spain, for a fair amount of time, but they never stayed anywhere long.

New Orleans, young and bright with a new way of life, had offered the closest thing to a permanent home they ever had. They built the city from a backwater penal colony to a metropolitan hub over the course of two centuries, and it had flourished under their care. Eventually, however, like all their other sanctuaries over the years, this, too, had been destroyed by their father.

The first thing Elijah did upon reaching the French Quarter, in any case, was get a drink.

He had been meaning to make this particular acquaintance for some time now, anyway. Things had simply been too hectic these last five years, too distracting, and he hadn’t had the time; if nothing else, this trip would provide him with an excuse for a visit.

“What brings you to the Big Easy?” Camille O’Connell asked. She set a glass in front of him.

Elijah tapped his fingers against the bar thoughtfully, giving a bit of a wry grin. “I used to live here,” he told her. Just vague enough.

“Really?” she asked with a surprised smile. “When?”

“Oh,” he sighed, amused, “it feels like a hundred years ago.” _Not quite. Over ninety years, though._

“I just moved here, myself.” She moved to clean a few dirty glasses with a rag, shrugging nonchalantly. “What brought you back?”

Elijah centered his glass on the coaster as he told her, “Well, I actually happen to be looking for my brother. He’s around here somewhere, I know.” He frowned. “I’m afraid he might have got himself into a bit of a bind.”

The bartender continued to clean glasses as her face twisted with amusement and intrigue, though he caught the twinge of sadness that touched her expression when he mentioned his brother. “You say that like it’s a common occurrence,” she pointed out.

“Well…” he drawled, not denying it. She seemed to notice, laughing lightly. He shook his head. “My brother is… complicated. Defiant, ill-mannered, a little temperamental,” he listed off, taking a sip of his drink. As he set the glass back down, he tapped his fingers rhythmically against the wood of the bar again and explained, “See, we don’t share the same father. Of course, that never bothered me, nor does it bother our other siblings, as much as they like to bring it up. He, however, resents it deeply. Never felt like he belonged.”

His grin widened once more as he glanced down, chuckling slightly.

“All told, he has a _long_ history of getting himself into trouble.” _Since before we even knew about his heritage._

She pursed her lips, amused. “And I’m guessing you have a long history of getting him out of it,” she said.

Elijah smiled and nodded. Her expression, the way she phrased it—she knew from experience. He forced his grin not to twist with sadness at the look in her eyes.

(Hollow, so sad and empty, just like—

But he should have known it would be like this. It had only been a few months ago that her tragedy struck; it was to be expected that she was still in mourning.

If he hadn’t been so busy, he might have been here to stop it. Her brother didn’t deserve the fate he had, and though their guardian would likely not appreciate input from a vampire, it might have saved this young woman some grief.)

“What kind of bind is your brother in?”

Elijah glanced away for a moment before looking back at her and deadpanning, “He believes there are people in this town that are conspiring against him.”

“Wow,” Cami intoned. “Narcissistic and paranoid.”

He raised a brow and clasped his hands over the bar, intrigued; it was a fair assessment, especially from someone who didn’t know Klaus.

She shook her head, looking down briefly in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she blurted. “Bartender with a grad degree in psychology. Total cliché.”

The Original smiled. He glanced, unnecessarily, at her nametag. “Listen, Camille,” he said, serious. “I’m looking for someone who might shed some light on my brother’s current predicament. She works here, actually—Jane-Anne Deveraux?” She nodded in acknowledgment. “Any idea where I might find her?” he asked.

Camille shook her head in apology. “No,” she said, “but I know someone who might.”


	16. Same Old Friends in the Same Old Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this effectively met his quota for surprising news for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elijah Mikaelson, Sabine/Celeste, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 The Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Ooh Look More Symptoms Yay, Déjà vu, Betrayal

“Here we have the voodoo shop, _Jardin Gris_ ,” the tour guide announced. According to Cami, her name was Sabine. “Go on, browse for a hex.”

As the tourists filed inside, she spun on her heel to face her vampire shadow.

“Are you gonna continue following me, Elijah?” she intoned. “Or do you wanna talk?”

He wasn’t surprised; he hadn’t truly been trying to mask his approach. Instead, he put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head slightly, stepping from the sidewalk. “You know who I am.”

“Original Vampire, always wears a suit?” she retorted. He smirked, and she grinned as she explained, “You and your family are famous amongst the witches around here, especially with your…” She grimaced. “…brother back in town.”

“Well, Niklaus is here because he learned that a witch was conspiring against him,” he mused. “Someone by the name of Jane-Anne Deveraux.”

“Well, if he’s looking for Jane-Anne, he’s a little late,” she spat.

Her jaw was tight, posture suddenly rigid. It brought him up short, mouth forming words with no sound for a moment.

He frowned incredulously. “Are you telling me she’s _dead_?” he asked.

Sabine shifted in frustration, head tilted back as she searched for words. Then she sighed. “Come on.” She gestured farther down the Square. “Her sister, Sophie, is gonna want to talk to you.”

They fell into step on the sidewalk leading into the Square, and silence reigned between them.

There was a pang, a strange ache in his chest beneath the tightness he’d been feeling all day. It took a moment to place, but it was very clearly déjà vu—though he couldn’t quite catch the memory attached to it. It intensified when the witch spun to stand in front of him and begged that he stay under the radar for the sake of her people.

Evidently, magic was outlawed in New Orleans. Any witch caught breaking the rules was slaughtered in public, laid out in the street for everyone to see.

If this was the state of relations between vampires and witches, what state could the Human Faction be in after nearly a century? And what of the wolves—they’d once run rampant through these streets, but he had yet to even catch a glimpse of those golden eyes or a whisper of hyper-aggressive arguing—where could they all be?

Besides that…

Apparently, Marcel was still alive and breathing, which effectively met his quota for surprising news for the day. Elijah ground his teeth as he realized they’d all been betrayed.

 _We mourned you,_ he thought, staring at the self-proclaimed King of the French Quarter. _We mourned you, and you stole our city for yourself._

As Marcel preached to the witches about the absolute power he had over them, Elijah stayed in the shadows out of respect for his guide’s wishes. He wanted nothing more than to teach Marcel a lesson about betraying family, but that would have to wait.

For now, Elijah needed to make a call.


	17. Are You There, God? It's Me, Rebekah.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think blood-sharing with my brother forced you to feel affection for each other?” She scoffed. “Didn’t the Salvatores teach you anything about being a vampire? Oh, wait, of course they didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, The Originals Love to Tell Their Stories, Look If Rebekah Isn’t a Cattell Person I Don’t Know Who Is, Subtle Nod To the Fact That They’re All Kind of Sociopaths, Listen I Needed To Get This All Out and Having It in One Conversation Was My Best Shot, Also Spoiler Alert Sometimes a Person Can Have More Than One Illness at a Time!!!

“You mean to tell me, after all these years, Marcel is alive and well?”

Elena raised a brow from where she sat by the tub. Rebekah just rolled her eyes, setting the phone to speaker (not that it mattered, but it was nice to not have to strain to hear) and putting it on the table before reaching to pour herself another glass of champagne.

It was almost nine o’clock; normally, this was generally the time they designated for one of their little “chats”, aka one of them (usually Rebekah, to be honest) moaning and groaning about something or other while the other countered them with logic or mushiness. Rebekah had been complaining about Klaus’ narcissistic tendencies when Elijah interrupted with an update on the newest drama.

“Marcel, the guy Klaus adopted?” Elena clarified, incredulous, staring at her. “The guy he _forbade_ you from seeing?”

Her tone grew mocking on the awkward term. Though she understood the story as it had been told to her, it still struck Elena as odd that Klaus had such control over his siblings’ lives as to _forbid_ them from pursuing certain love interests. Sure, she herself had tried to protect Jeremy from some of his… less prudent choices, but she never would have told him unequivocally that he had to choose between her and a girlfriend. Even when he and Bonnie dated—if she hadn’t been happy about it, if she’d been upset or jealous of her friend and brother being together, she wouldn’t have given them an ultimatum. She certainly would never _kill_ one of them over it, temporarily or otherwise.

Rebekah nodded with a sour expression. “Years after Nik undaggered me, our father tracked us to the city. Nik, Elijah, and I were able to escape from where he had us cornered, but Marcel was trapped as the theatre burned down.” She scoffed. “Looks like he took the opportunity to start a new life without us.”

The brunette’s head tilted, observing. “You mourned him,” she said softly. “But he was never dead. He’s been alive the whole time. That must be…”

 _“Quite,”_ Elijah sighed through the phone. No matter what she ended that sentence with, it would be true. _“Regardless of the circumstances, our brother seems to have wandered into a war zone, and I haven’t been able to find him.”_

Elena rolled her eyes, turning a page in the book in her lap. “I’m sure Klaus is around there somewhere—not like anything can kill him, and he’s not exactly the type to leave without getting what he wants,” she said pointedly.

 _“I doubt Niklaus had any idea what he was walking into,”_ he mused. _“Marcel, brought up beneath Klaus’ own wing, now rules a menagerie of savage vampires running wild, killing in public for any human to come upon. Witches are held in subjugation…”_

He trailed off slightly, and Elena frowned as Rebekah set her glass down with a clang.

“Sorry, what was that?” the blonde asked innocently. “I stopped paying attention at ‘our brother’.”

Elena side-eyed her as Elijah sighed, _“Rebekah—”_

She groaned. “Our hateful, traitorous, _bastard_ of a brother, who’s negated any sympathy I once had for him by his repeated efforts to ensure neither you nor I know happiness outside of his own selfish universe.”

She held up a hand, water sloshing, when the other woman made to protest.

“I gave up the Cure because I’ve lived too long without humanity— _mortality_ to know how I would behave upon its return,” she said, bitter. “Because I would not abandon my family, my brothers, to eternity with only each other, nor risk the chance of a vengeful vampire lover. That doesn’t mean anything has changed. Klaus has made no attempt to rekindle any sort of familial bond, nor has he apologized for centuries of torment.” She paused. “I was never the one to rescue him from himself, anyway,” she said pointedly.

 _“Always and forever, Rebekah,”_ Elijah said, voice stern, _“that is what we once swore to each other. Those words mean as much to me now as they ever have.”_

“He’s right,” Elena said dryly. “And like I said, you might tell yourself you hate him, but we all know where the loyalties lie. As far as making the effort… it goes both ways. When’s the last time you treated Klaus as your big brother rather than a ‘traitorous bastard’, as you put it?”

Rebekah jabbed a finger at her, eyes narrowing. “I miss when you had no emotions,” she spat. “ _And_ you’ve been spending too much time with Elijah—you’re starting to talk like him.”

“Really?” Elena’s head tilted, surprised. Thinking back on it, she had been a little formal lately… “Huh.”

“And you,” the blonde continued pointedly at the receiver. “Consider this me calling takebacks.”

 _“Oh,”_ he scoffed, exasperated, _“you’ve called takebacks dozens of times over the centuries. Yet when our father found us, chased us from this very city—”_

“I may be old, Elijah, but I’m hardly senile,” she snapped. “I know very well I stuck with Klaus, and not three years later he stuck a silver dagger in my chest and sent me into a magical slumber for ninety years. Do you know why? Because I had the audacity to try and live a life of my own.”

“Enough,” Elena said quickly, cutting her off. “He’s your brother, and he’s in trouble. Whatever he did a century ago in some bar in Chicago doesn’t matter. There’s only here and now.”

 _“Agreed,”_ Elijah intoned. _“Whatever is going on between Marcel and the witches, it’s dire enough that they’d risk bringing an Original back to town. The witches have lured him here, and I’d very much like to know why.”_

Rebekah sighed. “Call me when you have something interesting, then we’ll talk about me making the trip. It’s late here, anyway, and some of us have school tomorrow. Goodnight, brother.”

Elena rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone up from the table beside her before her friend could hang up, taking it off speaker to raise it to her ear.

“Let me know if I need to have a chat with Katherine and Stefan about misinformation,” she told him as Rebekah glared at her from the bath. “I’m already headed over there in a bit to grab the rest of my stuff from the Boarding House. I’m sure they’re still up, so it should be lots of fun.”

 _“Are you certain that’s wise?”_ His voice was genuinely concerned. _“Approaching them so soon, without a true decision made?”_

Elena grimaced. “Well, I might not have made all the decision I need to,” she drawled, “but I do know that I won’t be moving back into the Boarding House. I just… It’s not the same. If I need to, I’ll figure something else out, but for now I at least know that I need to get my things.”

 _“You know you’re always welcome to stay with me, Elena,”_ he said quietly. _“I meant what I said.”_

“I know,” she assured him. “I know you did, and I know—” A sigh. “That’s not important. We can talk later. For right now, I’ll get my stuff and wait for you to get back.”

It was his turn to sigh, and she got the feeling he wanted to say something else but held back. Instead, he only murmured, _“Very well.”_

Elena just smiled and shook her head, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I can’t keep wearing Rebekah’s clothes forever,” she joked. “And I think they picked up on my choice already, so it’s not like they’re gonna lock me in the cellar or anything.” He was quiet, and she sighed again; he wasn’t wrong. “I’ll call Caroline. I’m sure she would be more than willing to be my bodyguard for an hour. If worst comes to worst, maybe Rebekah will go with me.”

“Not bloody likely,” the blonde muttered, running her fingers through the damp ends of her hair. “I’m not particularly in the mood to chat with Stefan or Damon in the near future.”

She shrugged. “Sure, but maybe you can snap someone’s neck,” she said. “Could be cathartic.”

“Good point. Fine, I suppose.”

 _“If you’re sure,”_ Elijah said after a moment, still uneasy. _“It’s your decision.”_

“It is,” she agreed. “I’ll be careful.”

_“Please do.”_

Elena paused for a beat, a sudden thought freezing her in her tracks. “Oh, Elijah?”

_“Yes?”_

“You…” She swallowed, anxious. “You be careful, too, okay?” she said quietly, voice small. “If the witches aren’t afraid of having the Original Hybrid in town… who knows what they could do about an Original Vampire, you know? And even if they don’t have anything—Klaus isn’t exactly stable right now. So just—watch out, okay?”

She could hear him hesitate before saying anything; it was almost like he went to say something but changed his mind at the last second. Briefly, she wondered what it would have been.

 _“I will,”_ he settled on after a moment. _“I’ll return shortly; you have my word on that.”_

Elena grinned. “I’ll hold you to it,” she warned teasingly.

 _“I’m sure you will,”_ he replied, amused. _“I must go now—I have a Devereaux witch to interrogate.”_

“Goodnight, Elijah.”

_“Goodnight, Elena.”_

She hung up the phone and set it aside, reaching for her book again. Rebekah sighed, heavy and long, and Elena raised a brow.

“You two are pathetic,” Rebekah grumbled.

Elena grimaced and looked down at the book in her hand, hiding the red flush to her cheeks behind her hair. “Why do you keep saying that?” she muttered. “You said it the night you were undaggered, too, and that night in Willoughby—”

“And I’ll keep saying it,” she snapped, “until the two of you pull yourselves together and stop acting like children, or until the end of time. Whichever happens to come first.”

“Acting like children?” Elena’s tone was clipped, irritated. “The way I see it, we’re being perfectly mature about this. We aren’t rushing into anything, but we’re not completely ignoring our feelings, either.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “You know, people in a relationship usually have a _relationship_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t see why the two of you insist on this illusion—this farce of _taking things slow_.” She shook her head. “Why not just get it over with? Go on a date, jump him—ew, I wish I hadn’t had that thought.” Her expression curdled with disgust before smoothing out just as quickly. “You’re already repulsing as it is, even without a relationship—may as well get some _fun_ out of it.”

It was Elena’s turn to shake her head. “Elijah and I _have_ a relationship,” she said, firm. “It’s one of mutual trust and respect. I’m not ready for a new romance yet, anyway, not after what happened with Damon and Stefan. Elijah understands that, just like I understand he might never really put his whole heart into any romantic relationship we might have.”

Rebekah tilted her head. “Why do you say that?” Her eyes narrowed, mouth twisting dubiously. “You must know by now that Elijah doesn’t see… the others when he looks at you.”

“I do.” She nodded. “I know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s been hurt before, by two girls that wore the same face as me—one wasn’t even that long ago. I don’t think he’s gonna want to open himself up to that kind of pain again so soon, if ever. So, yeah. We have an understanding. Neither of us are really ready for that, not yet.”

Rebekah raised a brow, incredulous. “Really?” she asked, sarcastic. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you _are_ ready.” She gave Elena a sharp look when she made to protest. “No, you need to hear this. I understand that the two of you have convinced yourselves, somehow, that it’s too early. That you’ve been through too much too recently and so on and so forth.” A scoff. “What the two of you aren’t _getting_ is that time is meaningless when you’re a vampire. You have too much and not enough, and it’s even worse when you’re a vampire with too much empathy, compassion, _emotion_ … Which both of you are.”

“What does that mean?” Elena demanded with a frustrated huff. “Too much _and_ not enough?”

“Elena…” She sighed. “Look, there are some things that will come easier to you than to other vampires, or even humans—that’s just how it is for everybody.”

“Everybody?”

A nod. “For me, it’s easy to trust the people close to me. It’s why I’ve always stood by Nik, why it’s so easy for me to keep going back to him no matter what he does. It’s also why I can fall in love so easily.” Her lips pursed. “You and Elijah were similar humans, so it makes sense that you are similar vampires, as well. The two of you have some of the most intense emotions and values I’ve ever seen in any vampire. Chief among those is your loyalty, though I will admit you display it in different ways.”

Elena folded her hands over her knee, book forgotten as her head tilted in curiosity. “How so?”

Rebekah sighed, sitting up slightly in the tub. “If we’re going to have this long of a chat, I’d like to get out of this water and into some clothes first.” Her chin jerked. “Hand me that towel, would you?”

Once she had the cloth firmly tucked around her torso and under her arms, Elena followed her out of the bathroom and into the blonde’s bedroom. The young vampire sighed and flopped down across the pillows so that she was staring at the ceiling. Her friend was muttering something to herself as she searched for an outfit.

“I guess I can kind of see your point,” Elena said finally, after a full minute had gone by. “About the loyalty thing, I mean. Like… I know Elijah has _always and forever_ , and I’ve always been a _die for my friends and family_ kind of person. We both try to keep the people we love safe.”

“It’s more than that.” Rebekah grunted softly as she yanked a pair of leggings on. “It has to do with ego, too, to some extent. Which plays into your other emotions, just like your empathy.” She scoffed. “Sometimes it pays to listen at dinner parties—though I always preferred Cattell to Freud, I found his debates with Elijah on the facets of the psyche quite fascinating.”

There was a lot to think about with that last part, like the fact that the Original family had been acquainted with at least two of the founders of modern psychology, but Elena didn’t ask. That way lay madness, as they say.

Instead, she echoed, “Ego. Ego like… like sense of self-worth?”

“Specifically, in relation to others.” It was the blonde’s turn to sigh and flop onto the bed, thin cotton shirt riding up to her ribs to expose her stomach. “And you and Elijah are about as opposite as you could possibly be in how you think others see you, because you led very different human lives, being of different genders and born in different millennia… despite you both being the self-righteous elder-sibling type.”

“Do tell,” Elena snarked. “How do I think others see me?”

“You don’t,” Rebekah replied, blunt. “I’d wager you haven’t believed anyone sees you in years. Not since you found out about Katherine and your Doppelgänger status.”

She tilted her head back to look at her young friend.

“What I’m saying is… you’ve lived your entire life in a specific set of roles, just like Elijah—the difference is, your roles were usually developed by others for you.” She shrugged. “Which is where the _die for your friends_ mentality comes from. You feel that way because you believe your friends and family would be just fine without you, whereas if you were to lose those close to you, you would also lose the structure and stability they build for you, and you’d have no idea who you even are without them.”

Elena was quiet for a long moment after Rebekah finished speaking. She took the time to process and understand before asking another question.

“And Elijah? How is his brand of loyalty so different?”

“It’s not _so_ different,” the blonde replied, mouth twisting sharply. “Elijah also feels like he would lose his purpose if he lost his family, but he’s also spent centuries—and nearly a quarter of one as a human before that—acting as a barrier between us and the world. Or, more accurately, the world and us. He sees himself as the ultimate protector, and that adds to his character in a way that is almost exactly the opposite of the way your own experience has shaped your personality. Where you don’t know who you are without your friends and family, Elijah doesn’t know how his family would fare without him. It’s not that he thinks so highly of himself as to think he’s the most important thing in the world, or that we couldn’t survive perfectly well without him—it’s that he couldn’t be at peace with himself if he made no effort to help us when we need it, especially if the outcome were to be our deaths or some other injury.”

Elena said nothing, still processing, and Rebekah sighed heavily.

“Of course, this only got worse once you became vampires,” she added with a _tsk_. “Vampires being so possessive, and all.”

“Possessive?” the brunette murmured, absentminded.

“The Salvatores really didn’t take much time to teach you about vampires, did they?” Rebekah scoffed. “Not that I’m surprised.” Another sigh. “Yes, possessive. Not with everything, obviously, because when you live forever you eventually come to realize how fleeting everything else is. But with some things. People, usually—or at least other vampires, those they get along with. Some vampires have other things they’re fond of that they like to keep through eternity. We all have our family, but my brothers have other things. Elijah has books, Nik has paintings, Kol was fond of collecting grimoires and potions. I’ve never thrown an outfit away unless it was truly unsalvageable.” She shrugged. “Mostly, though, it’s people. Family, lovers, mates, friends—we all crave that connection, and we don’t particularly like the prospect of sharing… or the prospect of losing it all.”

Elena was quiet for a while, thinking. It made sense, but…

“I still don’t see what that has to do with me moving on and dating Elijah,” she admitted.

Rebekah sighed. Then she groaned and rolled over onto her stomach so that she didn’t have to strain her neck to face the other girl.

“Let me simplify,” she intoned. “The Salvatores, though they broke your trust, are still your friends. You still love them—”

“I wouldn’t go that far—”

“You still love them,” Rebekah insisted, raising her voice a bit until Elena stopped talking again. “You can’t be in love with either of them anymore, though, because they broke your trust by doing the one thing that you’ve repeatedly stated you hate. Are you with me so far?”

“…Yes…?”

“But because your compassion and your loyalty are the strongest parts of your humanity, you’ll do anything to keep them as your friends—thereby forgiving them enough that the hateful chapter in your life is over, but not enough for romance with either to be an option for you.”

“Right, that’s… true…”

“You have made a strong connection with Elijah now, something you’ve both acknowledged. Which means you’re now in each other’s circle of possessiveness.”

“Okay.”

“As for Elijah…” Rebekah trailed off with a sigh. “You must know that he has never seen you as _just another Doppelgänger_ , so this idea that you have about him not trusting himself with you simply because you look like them—you need to get rid of it. It’s not true.” Her nose wrinkled. “Besides, he was never in love with Katherine.”

“Maybe not, but he loved Katerina.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed dubiously. “Are you sure about that?” she retorted. “Because the way he used to talk about her—”

Rebekah shook her head. “He was in love with the _idea_ of her,” she said, tone clipped. “I know my brother better than almost anyone on this planet, and I know he wasn’t in love with that wench. She put up this innocent, delicate façade with him back then, but he knew, deep down, that she wasn’t really like that. He tried to force himself not to see it, to believe the lie and fall in love with the charade, because he wanted Tatia back. But he never could.” Her lips pursed. “Elijah has been truly in love with only three women in a thousand years. Including you.”

“Great,” she muttered. “So I don’t have to worry about Katherine, but Tatia might be a problem.”

“Tatia didn’t break his heart, Elena.”

“What?” Her brow scrunched. “I thought…”

Rebekah shook her head again. “Tatia loved both Klaus and Elijah. They were both equally in love with her, but she chose Elijah. They were going to be happy, raise her child together.” She sighed. “Nik claimed to respect it, but we all knew he still loved her. Our mother… she didn’t want Elijah and Nik to hate each other in that way for the rest of their lives, so when she needed a way to bind Nik’s Curse… she decided to kill two birds with one stone.” She blinked hard, her eyes sad. “So, no. Tatia didn’t break Elijah’s heart. Our mother did when she killed her.”

Both girls were quiet for a while, one remembering as the other analyzed.

Finally, Elena sighed. “Still,” she murmured. “What if he’s not over that pain? What if… what if we get together, and I’m not _enough_?”

“Isn’t that _his_ decision, though?” Rebekah prodded her gently. “Whether he’s ready or not?”

“Yeah, but…”

“And as for not being enough…” Her smile was small but genuine. “What if you are? What if you both are?” She sighed. “You keep coming up with these excuses, saying you’re not ready or it’s too early or it’s not right, but you can’t even convince yourself, can you? All you’re doing is denying the one thing that’s clear to everyone else.”

“And what’s that?” Elena challenged, chin high in defiance.

“Those feelings I pointed out a month ago have only grown stronger as time goes by,” the blonde replied, nonchalant, with a shrug. “You’ve fallen completely in love with Elijah, and you’re falling more every day. Just like he is. And it won’t go away—not even if you ignore it for the next century or millennium. It’s just there.” She gave her a pointed look. “You’ve already blood-shared, for God’s sake, something no vampire does outside of the bedroom or an emergency.”

She grinned at her friend’s shocked expression. Elena hadn’t known that she knew about the blood-sharing; it certainly made sense of a few of her curious looks the last few weeks, though.

“Just think about it, Elena,” she murmured, rolling over onto her back again and putting her arms under her head. “As much as I might have protested before… You both deserve to be happy. So _be happy_. There really is no sense in waiting.”

The young vampire was quiet for a long moment, fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans as she thought. Finally, she asked timidly, “Bekah?”

It was a testament to their growing friendship that the blonde didn’t immediately rip her head off at the nickname. Instead, she kept her eyes closed and gave a hum of bland acknowledgment.

“I mean, you brought it up, so—I just think it’s worth asking.” She took a steadying breath. “Do you think… Does blood-sharing have any… aftereffects?”

Rebekah’s eyes popped wide open at that, though she was careful to keep still on the bed. “Like what?”

Elena bit her lip, suddenly anxious. “Like… stuff that could be mistaken for romantic feelings?” She frowned when Rebekah snorted. “What?” she snapped.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “You think blood-sharing with my brother forced you to feel _affection_ for each other?” She scoffed, glancing up at her briefly. “Didn’t the Salvatores teach you anything about being a vampire? Oh, wait, of course they didn’t.”

She shook her head when Elena’s frown only deepened.

“ _No_ ,” Rebekah snapped. “First of all, Elijah’s blood is out of your system now. It wouldn’t have lingered for more than a week, if that—any ‘forced’ feelings would have left with it.” She raised a brow, looking her over pointedly. “Yet I can clearly see you are in love with each other. Secondly, blood-sharing can’t just _conjure_ feelings from thin air, they must have already existed.”

Elena took a moment to absorb that before relaxing slightly. “Okay,” she said, relieved.

Rebekah’s eyes narrowed. “Something else is bothering you,” she mused, skeptical. “Spit it out.”

The brunette shook her head. A light blush stained her cheeks, and the Original’s brows shot up.

“Come now, it can’t be all that.”

Elena looked away, toward the ceiling, crossing her arms over her stomach almost defensively. “I…” She hesitated. Then she blurted, “Ever since Elijah left town, I’ve had this weird feeling, like my mind isn’t all there. And my chest and stomach feel shaky and churning.”

Rebekah ground her teeth slightly, frustrated, and shifted so Elena couldn’t see her expression.

So. It would seem she had been right, that day in Willoughby. Her big brother had messed with something he shouldn’t have, ignored all the signs, and now…

She sighed internally. Of _course_ it had been too much to ask that she be wrong—because why would the universe look upon her kindly now when it never had before? Now she needed to come up with some sort of explanation and plan for the future, as _clearly_ these idiots couldn’t figure it out for themselves.

But maybe Elijah knew already.

That thought stopped her in her tracks. If Elijah knew, why didn’t Elena? And if he knew, surely he would have tried to put a stop to it, right? He wouldn’t have allowed the two to get so close knowing that this… thing could be affecting them.

No, there was no way he knew. It probably hadn’t even crossed his mind as a possibility—it had barely registered with her, and she’d already seen it happen twice. It was extremely rare, though, and for good reason. So many steps, so many things that needed to happen, needed to be present, for this kind of bond to form… they almost never lined up. Rebekah had only ever seen it twice, only heard of it happening between humans a few dozen times in the last millennium—the vampire equivalent was even more rare.

Rarer than a one-in-a-million sire bond or a once-in-a-lifetime Doppelgänger or the inconceivably miniscule chance of _the Doppelgänger having a sire bond_.

How was Rebekah supposed to tell Elena this? How was she supposed to tell her that, once again, she was a victim of circumstance? A freak, when she just crossed the last bridge to normalcy?

No. No, she couldn’t. She _wouldn’t_. Not now, not yet, not when they were just starting to be friends and Elena was finally realizing she could be happy with Elijah and their family.

So she swerved.

“Let’s list the facts here,” she replied finally, rolling back onto her stomach to face the girl. “You are in love with Elijah, and he is in love with you. This has been established, yes?” Elena nodded slowly, tentative, and Rebekah sighed. “Yes, it has. Fact two: vampires feel things more intensely than humans or witches or even werewolves, yes?” She nodded more forcefully this time, and the blonde smirked. “So, assumption: if both of you are in love with each other, it makes sense that you are both having intense feelings of separation and abandonment.”

“I don’t think Elijah is really—”

Rebekah glowered, cutting her off. “He is,” she said firmly. “If he wasn’t feeling the separation, he wouldn’t have assured you that he would be careful and be home soon. Elijah just has more experience keeping his emotions under control.”

She could only hope she was giving Elena some peace of mind. She had hers, now knowing and understanding what was going on—understanding the signs she’d seen this last month and even before that—but she couldn’t give her friend that same comfort without destroying the peace she’d so carefully built around herself since getting her emotions back. Elena couldn’t know she was the oddball yet again, not until after it was all over.

What if she found out? What if the knowledge broke her? Rebekah might gripe and complain about Elena’s bleeding heart, might joke around and say she missed when she had no humanity, but the truth was… Elena wasn’t Elena when she didn’t have her emotions, her soul. And if she turned it off again and Elijah had to watch?

Elena with no humanity was bad. Elijah blocking his emotions after losing the love of his life? Who knew how bloody and wretched it could get.

No, Elena didn’t need to know. _Elijah_ didn’t need to know. He’d just try to force it away, push Elena away, wriggle out of it somehow. He’d convince himself that Elena’s choice was being taken away, that she deserved to have a choice; which she did, but he’d only see this bond—and the parts leading up to it—as something that would force her into a relationship. It would make it all so much worse.

As glad as Rebekah was to have the explanation, herself, she couldn’t risk telling them.

The bond, she knew, wouldn’t last more than a few months, probably. Maybe a year. Then the lingering connection would fade away, leaving behind only their relationship as they wanted. It wasn’t a _compulsory_ kind of bond like a sire bond, either—it wasn’t one-sided, and it didn’t force feelings on a couple that normally didn’t exist. Rather, it was a bond meant to draw a couple toward each other with the _potential_ to be a great romance. Among other things.

That was perhaps the only reason Rebekah felt justified in staying silent. It wasn’t like they weren’t perfectly consenting adults, and it would probably have happened anyway…

It would all be fine. Just fine.

She hoped.

Rebekah sighed. “Elena… everything will work itself out. You and Elijah—you’ll figure it out. You’re not supposed to have all the answers going into it.”

Elena contemplated it for a long moment before nodding, expression almost grim in its flatness. She went to say something, but she barely got a word out before she grimaced and lurched from the bed, racing back to the bathroom.

Rebekah winced when she heard her throwing up her dinner. “Well,” she muttered as her friend continued to dry heave and spit bloody vomit into the toilet, “that’s probably not a good sign.”


	18. A Growing Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So why don’t you tell me what business your family has with my brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elijah Mikaelson, Sophie Devereaux, Hayley Marshall, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Awkward Meetings

He cleaned the blood from his hand with a handkerchief before moving to straighten his tie. Looking up at the vampire hanging from the wall, he tilted his head slightly in acknowledgment.

“I’m Elijah,” he said to the girl, rebuttoning his jacket. Glancing over, his mouth quirked in a humorless smirk as he took in her shaking form. “You’ve heard of me?”

The woman nodded quickly, nervous. “Y—Yes.”

Elijah turned and took a step toward her, nodding in encouragement before prompting her, tone sardonic: “So why don’t you tell me what business your family has with my brother?”

* * *

Of all the places he expected to be taken to talk, a cemetery was not on the list.

“What did your sister want with Niklaus?” he asked once they were both inside the circle of the boundary.

Sophie whirled on him, arms outstretched in incredulity. “Isn’t it obvious?” she retorted. “We have a vampire problem, and we need help. Marcel has an army backing him. The witches have been trying to fight back.” She shook her head, despondent but resolute. “We haven’t had much luck—no one has. Until my sister, Jane-Anne, met a girl.”

Elijah tilted his head, curious, though he didn’t ask; instead, he just stared at her expectantly.

“A werewolf,” she said pointedly, brow raised, “passing through the Quarter from a small town in Virginia. I’m guessing you know the name.”

“And?”

“ _And_ she had a special… _connection_ to your brother.” Sophie shrugged.

Elijah fought the urge to scoff in impatience. “What kind of connection?”

“Apparently, they spent some time together,” she said with a smirk, crossing her arms. “One thing led to another and now, this special werewolf girl? She’s pregnant. And the father of the child she’s carrying is your brother, Klaus.”

“An informant of mine—” he fought the smile at the understatement “—told me a tale very similar to this, but it’s just that: a tale. Vampires cannot procreate, that is a fact. It’s impossible.”

Sophie shook her head, insistent. “Nothing is impossible, especially not when it comes to your brother. Think about it,” she persisted. “They call him the _hybrid_ , right?”

She turned to look over her shoulder, further into the cemetery.

“Bring her out!” she called.

And there she was. They’d never met—he’d been long gone before she came to town, and she’d disappeared weeks before Willoughby—but Elena had told him a few things over the last month or so. The moment the witches rounded the corner towing a young woman by her arm, he knew she must be Hayley, the werewolf girl.

The witches had at least had the sense to keep her perfectly intact, though she was obviously frustrated beyond belief with no clue what was happening or who he was.

Elijah and Hayley were led into a small chamber to give them a moment to talk.

She hadn’t even known she was pregnant before they snatched her, and then she’d been held in the bayou for the last week while the witches cast spells on her. That last part in and of itself was worrying—what spells had they cast?

Elijah let that go, however, in favor of explaining how this could have happened. He told her of Klaus’ Curse, how it might be possible for them to have conceived a child.

Hayley agreed that their father was the epitome of terrible parenting, which would do her well as she joined their family. That she would be doing so was a given; he would not allow anything to befall her while she was carrying his brother’s child, nor would he allow Niklaus to take their child away from its mother, so she must be kept close and safe, and the easiest way to do so was for her to join the family.

“I wonder if this baby might be a way for my brother to find happiness,” he mused. “A way to save him from himself in a way I’ve never managed.”

The vault door creaked open, and Sophie crossed her arms as she stood before them.

“Glad you feel that way,” she said, not looking particularly happy in any way, “because we need your help.”


	19. Elijah Mikaelson: Est 977AD. Cleaning Up His Siblings' Messes Since 989AD.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wonder how glad he’ll be to know the cure for werewolf venom happens to be roaming the streets of his stolen empire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Elena is Working on Her English Accent But It Still Sucks, Being the Older Sibling Sucks, Elijah Being Elijah, Elena Actually Does Know a Lot About the Originals and How They Behave

Of course, nothing ever quite goes to plan where Klaus is involved. In fact, it all very quickly went to hell in a handbasket.

Elijah watched with clenched teeth as his little brother yet again ruined his chances at happiness. He himself could do nothing at this point; Marcel had no idea he was in town yet, and he needed to keep it that way if he was going to negotiate with both sides. Besides, if Klaus really and truly ruined things with his adopted son, it would be better for Elijah to present himself as a separate entity entirely rather than an extension of Klaus.

After watching his brother’s (overexaggerated) show of strength, Elijah found himself making another call home.

His baby sister ignored him, to his irritation, so he tried a different number. This one answered on the first ring, easy as that.

“Hey.” Elena pulled off to the side of the road. They were still a good mile or so away from the Boarding House, and she didn’t want to risk being overheard. “It’s almost ten—I’m on my way to get my stuff, so… Is it true?”

 _“It is,”_ Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. _“And Klaus would have us believe that he does not care.”_

Elena sat back in her seat in the car, casting a glance at the confused blonde in the passenger seat. “Caroline is with me,” she informed him. “Is she okay to be hearing this?’

He paused, contemplating it. In all honesty, the young vampire might have been the only one with a chance of getting through to his brother. What worried him was her temperament—he had no way of telling how she would react to the news.

In the end, he agreed. The benefits outweighed costs. _“It’s… fine. She may be able to help.”_

Caroline scoffed. “What, because Klaus has feelings for me?” She rolled her eyes.

 _“Because he_ trusts _you,”_ Elijah replied, blunt as always. _“He trusts you to be honest and not hold back—to force him into things and not give him what he wants.”_ A pause, and Elena knew he was shaking his head with a raised brow, incredulous. _“You’re the only person in nearly a thousand years to tell him no and face no repercussions.”_

She opened her mouth, surprised and without a single word to offer in protest.

Elena shook her head. “So, Hayley’s pregnant,” she said, pulling them back on track. “With Klaus’ kid. Somehow.”

Caroline snapped out of it. “Hayley—as in Tyler’s friend?”

The Doppelgänger nodded. “Apparently, she slept with Klaus before she disappeared from town,” she explained. “Then she went down to New Orleans looking for her long-lost werewolf family, but she got snatched by some witches who wanted to use her against Klaus, or as leverage to get him to do something for them, or whatever.” A pause. “Right, Elijah? That’s what happened, isn’t it?”

 _“You are correct.”_ He sighed. _“Unfortunately, Klaus has never been too fond of blackmail, nor is he happy that someone claims to have found his weakness. He’s willing to give up everything.”_

“Does that really surprise you?” Elena asked.

Elijah grimaced. _“I already see it. He’s spiraling. He’s lashing out in blind rage.”_ He paused, remembering. _“You know, the last time I saw him like this it lasted 200 years.”_

Caroline sighed. “I thought he was making progress,” she grumbled.

 _“As did I,”_ he replied. He groaned softly in frustration. _“He was so_ close _,”_ he said, insistent. _“When he heard the baby’s heartbeat, I could see it in his eyes. He_ wanted _it. He could almost_ taste _happiness.”_

“But Klaus is a moron,” Elena finished, eyeroll evident in her voice, “and he doesn’t think he deserves happiness, so he pushed it away before he could get attached.” She raised a brow at Caroline. “Remind you of anyone?” she muttered.

Then she turned back to the console with a sigh, closing her eyes as she winced in anticipation.

“I’m guessing he did something… Klaus-like and screwed over any plans you might have had for mediating between Marcel and the witches.”

 _“Naturally,”_ Elijah agreed. _“Any happiness he may have had…”_ He shook his head. _“His temper has destroyed it. Even if I were to return him to sanity, he just lost Marcel’s trust.”_

“What did he do?” Caroline asked.

_“He bit his second-in-command.”_

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said, incredulous. “ _Why_?”

 _“Marcel has rules,”_ he explained patiently. _“Rules that closely resemble the ones our family upheld when he was a child living under our care in this very city. One of them happens to forbid vampires from killing other vampires. Niklaus is, technically, still a vampire—hybrid or not—therefore, by infecting this man, he has broken that rule.”_

Elena sighed and rolled her eyes—she seemed to be doing that a lot, lately. “And let me guess,” she said, amused despite herself. “He said something like, _‘I’ve broken one of your rules, and yet I cannot be killed.’_ ” Her accent was terrible, and she heard Elijah’s soft laugh as Caroline snorted, but it got the job done. “Followed by a claim to true immortality and some kind of challenge to the throne and a friendly comment turned insult.”

 _“Almost verbatim,”_ Elijah confirmed, slightly impressed. _“Nicely done.”_ She grinned, though it dimmed slightly when he sighed. _“So, I’m almost out of time to get the girl.”_

“When’s the deadline?”

 _“Midnight,”_ he said.

“They can’t honestly think you’ll be able to change Klaus’ mind in—” Caroline glanced at the clock “—two hours.”

“Three hours,” Elena corrected. “They’re an hour behind us.” She grimaced. “Still, three hours? That’s a little insane.”

 _“That was their deadline for putting my brother in line,”_ he mused, _“but I am not quite so naïve. No, I believe I’ll bring them something else they want. At least to stall them until I can get Klaus under control.”_

Elena’s brow scrunched before she slowly smiled in understanding. “That witch Marcel killed,” she realized. “They’ll want her body. You’re going to make a deal with him?”

 _“Less a deal,”_ he admitted, _“more a suggestion.”_ He paused, smiling slightly. _“I wonder how glad he’ll be to know the cure for werewolf venom happens to be roaming the streets of his stolen empire.”_

Caroline snorted. “Pretty glad, I’d say,” she said. “But what are you gonna do when you get Hayley? Like you said, Klaus doesn’t care, and if these witches are so bent on getting him and you to work for them, they probably won’t give her up that easy. There are spells to keep people where you want them.”

 _“You have a point,”_ he sighed, _“but I cannot simply do nothing. They are holding her prisoner in a cemetery, which I can’t imagine is comfortable.”_

Elena shuddered. “It’s not,” she muttered. “Even if she can’t leave the city, she should at least have a good home. Especially being pregnant.” She sighed. “Elijah…”

 _“Elena?”_ he prompted when she trailed off. _“What is it?”_

Her lips pursed, hesitant, before she shook her head and continued, “Do what you have to. Klaus might be acting aloof now, but I would guess he’d regret it if something happened to his kid.”

Caroline scoffed. “Honestly, with how he was treated by Mikael, I can’t believe he’s acting like this after finding out about this kid.”

 _“Say what you will about Niklaus,”_ Elijah replied, voice tight in determination, _“but on my life, I’m not letting anything happen to that baby.”_

Elena just smiled. “I’ll see you when you get home,” she said before they hung up. “It sounds like you’re gonna need some help in New Orleans, so I’ll work on convincing Rebekah until you get back.”

_“…Thank you.”_

The line went dead.


	20. Stefan Needs a Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She’s right, Damon. It's her decision. We’ve already taken too many away from her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Supportive Caroline, Hey Look Elena Actually Has a Backbone, Elena Talks to the Ex, It’s Not That Damon’s Creepy He’s Just Weird I Swear, Pushy Damon/Understanding Stefan FTW

It was late enough that the Moon was out, but apparently not late enough for the Salvatores to be asleep; half the lights in the house were on, including the one hanging outside by the door, which flickered every time a moth got too close.

Elena took a deep breath to steady herself before knocking. Caroline reached out as the doorknob jiggled from the other side, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly before shooting her an encouraging smile.

The door swung open, and Damon smirked down at them as he leaned against the entryway.

“Hello, ladies,” he drawled.

Her ex-boyfriend had always spoken in that way—sexual, laden with innuendo no matter the actual words he spoke. It had never really crossed her mind to question it, or think it was odd even in the beginning, because it fit him so well. It was just a  _Damon_  thing.

Now, though, after everything they’d— _she’d_ —been through…

She almost shivered in a way that was not at all delightful.

It was made even creepier by the knowledge that he had, in fact, had sex with both of the vampires currently standing on the porch.

“What brings you by this evening?” he continued.

“Cut the crap, Damon,” Caroline snapped, grin dropping as she glared at the older vampire.

“Eloquent as always, Caroline.” Damon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. It might have been intimidating to anyone who didn’t know him, but from Elena’s perspective he just looked pouty. “What’s your problem now, Barbie?”

“Maybe I’m just finally tired of your—”

Elena shook her head, raising a hand to cut the argument short. “Just stop,” she sighed. She stood a little straighter, gaze carefully hardened as she looked up at her ex-boyfriend. “I’m here to get my stuff.”

The smug look was immediately wiped from the man’s face. “What?” he demanded. “Where are you gonna go, huh?” He didn’t seem to need a real response, already shaking his head and taking an almost menacing step forward. “Moving on with _Elijah_? What— _living_ with him? You can’t be _serious_ , Elena!”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” she snapped through clenched teeth, “and not that anything is set in stone as of now, but yes, Damon—I am _serious_.”

Damon growled, reaching out to snatch her by the arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“What’s going on?”

All three heads snapped to look further into the house. Stefan glanced between them, eyes lingering on his brother’s grip on Elena.

Damon just glowered at him before pulling Elena closer and meeting her eyes, almost pleading now. “Elena,” he said, firm. “Please. You said you still loved me, that you understood—”

“I do,” she told him, yanking on his hold to try to free herself. “I do love you, Damon, and I understand why you did what you did.”

“Then _stay_.” His expression turned exasperated. “Stay with me, let me make it up to you, okay?”

Elena shook her head. “You don’t need to,” she murmured. “I already forgave you.”

Damon’s hold on her loosened in surprise. “Then why—”

“Because I don’t _trust you_ ,” she spat, frustrated. “I love you both—” her eyes cut to Stefan pointedly “—and I would trust you with my life, because I know you would never intentionally hurt me.” Her smile was sad when it appeared. “But I can’t trust you not to break my heart again, or my trust. So I’m taking myself out of the equation.”

“That’s bullsh—”

Elena pushed against his chest, forcing her way into the house. “It’s _my decision_ , Damon. After everything, I need you to respect that.” She moved around him while he was still staring at her in shock.

She was halfway up the stairs before there was a noise behind her. Damon had moved to chase her, and Stefan vamped to stand in his way. Caroline leaned in the doorway, almost anticipating.

“Don’t,” the younger brother said, voice tight. “She’s right, Damon. It _is_ her decision. We’ve already taken too many away from her.”

“But she—”

“She made her choice. Let it go.”

Elena wasn’t followed as she continued upstairs to pack.


	21. Will the Real Doppelgänger Please Stand Up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Bye, Katherine. I would say it was nice knowing you, but I’d be lying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Katherine Pierce, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Hey Look Elena Actually Has a Backbone, Katherine Needs to Make Up Her Mind, Elena Defends Elijah Because Of Course

“I _heard_ you moved into the Mikaelson mansion.”

Elena didn’t bother to turn at the sound of her own voice. Instead, she continued shoving things into her suitcase with a single-mindedness she only ever got when she was frustrated or angry.

Her jaw was tight as she replied blandly, “That tone suggests an insult, but it is a fact that that’s where I’ve been staying. Not like I was keeping it a secret or anything.”

Katherine scoffed. “I wouldn’t act so high-and-mighty, little miss _princess_ ,” she snarled. “Elijah asked Klaus to back off on me for a reason. He loves _me_.” Her smirk was evident when she continued, “You’re just a consolation prize, as usual. The newest model, ripe for the picking.”

Elena’s fingers tightened on the zipper briefly before she yanked it closed and spun on her heel. Her darker twin was leaning against the door to her old room with crossed arms and a malicious grin on her lips. She matched the woman’s posture but kept her expression carefully blank as she spoke.

“Elijah asked Klaus to back off on you because he wanted you to have a chance to find yourself again,” Elena said slowly. “He cares for you, but he’s not in love with you. Not anymore, not after everything you’ve put him through.”

Katherine’s glare was fierce. “Elijah and I were meant to be together,” she spat.

“Funny,” she hummed, eyes narrowed. “Weren’t you just saying that about you and _Stefan_ a few weeks ago?”

“You can say whatever you want, but you’ll never mean more to him than I did.” She smirked viciously. “It must be so hard, only ever getting my leftovers.”

Elena just shook her head, grabbing her suitcase and smiling almost sadly as she pushed past her. At the bottom of the stairs, she spun on her heel to look up at her older Doppelgänger.

“That right there is how I know the two of you will never be together,” she said sweetly. “Elijah isn’t just another one of your conquests you’ve tossed to the side. I’ve never seen him, or Stefan or Damon or even Klaus as your _leftovers_.”

She glared up at her as she felt Caroline lingering behind her in the doorway. Right now, the blonde was one of few people she could count on, Stefan apparently being another, as surprising as that had been when they arrived, and she was thankful for the quiet support. Elena knew that if she asked, Caroline would back her up in a fight with Damon, or even Katherine, without hesitation, because they were like sisters; with things being on shaky ground with Bonnie, she needed Caroline even more.

“They’re _people_ , Katherine,” Elena continued. “They have feelings and hopes and dreams—they have _hearts_ , and you’ve broken them all over the centuries.” She took a deep breath and expelled it in a huff. “So if Elijah says you two are done, when he tells me his feelings for me are real, I believe him. I trust that he’s not trying to sublimate his feelings for you by forcing them onto me.”

She shook her head at her twin’s incredulous look. Katherine was clearly underinformed or _mis_ informed as to her relationship with Elijah, and she wasn’t really willing to get into a lot of detail when she hadn’t talked to the Original himself about it, but she knew one thing, and she wasn’t afraid to say this, at least, out loud:

“Even if I never get together with Elijah, I at least know that he would never lie to me about something like that.”

With that, Elena turned her back on Katherine and moved to Caroline’s side, linking arms with her blonde friend and returning her bright smile.

She passed both Damon and Stefan on the way out and nodded in acknowledgment. Stefan gave her a sad smile and returned the nod. Damon, on the other hand, frowned as hurt flashed in his eyes before turning to disappear elsewhere in the house—probably to get wasted on bourbon, not that she would blame him.

“Bye, Katherine,” Elena called over her shoulder. “I would say it was nice knowing you, but I’d be lying.”


	22. Not Exactly a Paradigm for Healthy Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know you consider yourself an expert on brotherly dynamics, but you don’t know my brothers half as well as you think you do. You never have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Hey Look Another Phone Call, Relationship Dynamics, Elijah Is Tired, Katherine Ain’t As Smart As She Claims To Be, Jealous!Katherine (Sort Of), Rebekah Introspection, Rebekah Is Actually Conscious of Her Pettiness/Insecurity/Bad Habits

_“Well, he’s doing what he always does,”_ Elijah sighed.

He wiped the blood from his face with a handkerchief. His little brother hadn’t bothered to put much strength behind his blows—if Elijah was being honest, neither had he, and he was almost sure Klaus knew that. Still, just because they weren’t trying to kill each other didn’t mean there was no blood spilt.

A second later, he added, _“Given a chance at happiness, Klaus runs in the opposite direction.”_

“Then let him run,” Rebekah insisted as she turned on a lamp in the living room. “That child, _if_ it’s even _his_ , is better off without him.”

 _“He’s not better off without that child, Rebekah,”_ he scolded, _“and neither are we._ Any _of us.”_

No doubt, her darling elder brother was including his _girlfriend_ in that—as well as Caroline, probably, given Nik’s obsession. Rebekah wasn’t sure what her brothers saw in these children; Elena, at least, was growing on her, and Caroline probably would, too, if they gave it a chance, but they hadn’t spent much time together yet, so it was too soon to say.

And _maybe_ Elijah was right, _maybe_ this baby would bring their family together again, but how long would that last, if it even worked? A year? Decades? A century? How long before Klaus was right back to his dastardly, psychotic ways? Before he stuck another dagger in one of their backs—or chests—for some perceived slight?

He wouldn’t catch Rebekah waiting to find out.

“Darling, kind Elijah,” she sighed, slumping against the wall. “Our brother rarely brings us anything but pain. At what point in your immortal life will you stop searching for his redemption?”

He scoffed, clearly irritated. Then, almost defeated, _“I’ll stop searching for his redemption… when I believe there is none left to be found.”_

The line went dead a second after the last word reached her. She huffed in frustration, tossing her phone back onto the end table.

The floorboards creaked, and she turned to find Katherine leaning against the back of the couch, a concerned look in her eyes.

She might have thought it was Elena, if not for the viciously curled hair and the fact that she could still hear Elena upstairs, snoring soundly in her guestroom. The baby vampire had essentially dropped into a coma moments after returning from her outing with Caroline to retrieve her things, which would have been mildly disconcerting if Rebekah hadn’t known just how difficult the last hour must have been.

Elena’s accomplice from the mission was in Klaus’ study, gathering a few more primary sources to finish up a paper for school. Rebekah was absolutely sure she would ask Elena to proofread it the moment she woke from her nap.

Regardless, the woman standing before her in the living room and leaning against the leather of her sofa was obviously the older and darker Doppelgänger.

“I’d give you a play-by-play,” the Original spat, glaring at her, “but you have the air of someone who’s been lurking and listening.”

Katherine shook her head. “He’ll come around. You know Elijah—he won’t stop until he’s convinced Klaus to do the right thing.”

Rebekah tsked as she crossed her arms. “I know you consider yourself an expert on brotherly dynamics,” she said scathingly, “but you don’t know my brothers half as well as you think you do. You never have.”

“You’re wrong,” she insisted softly. “Klaus won’t be able to walk away from this. He and I are the same.” She shook her head, pushing off the sofa to approach her, almost beseeching. “We manipulate, we thirst for power, we control, we punish—but our actions are driven by one singular place deep inside.”

“And what’s that?” the blonde challenged, crossing her arms. “What could you and my brother possibly have in common, other than a general love of chaos?”

“We’re all alone in the world,” Katherine replied, eyes wide and sad, “and we hate it.”

It _might_ have conjured some sympathy in Rebekah, _if_ she didn’t already know how heartless the girl truly was.

“Tell Elijah to call me when he gets home,” the Doppelgänger said quietly after a moment, turning to go. “I’ll be waiting for him to come to his senses.”

Once she had disappeared, Rebekah’s thoughts turned back to her claim—that she knew Klaus so well because they were the same in their loneliness.

It couldn’t be true, could it? Nik had always had at least one of them at his side; hell, even when they were on the outs, they still talked. He had daggered her for ninety years, she’d been asleep for almost a century, but that hadn’t changed, had it? Had he really been so separate from everyone and everything that might have related to him?

If he had… perhaps Elena had been right earlier. It might just be time to start treating Nik like her brother once again.

The moment the younger Doppelgänger had said that, she’d known it was true; she _hadn’t_ been treating him like her big brother, especially as of late. Blame it on the events of the last year, or on the fact that he never once apologized, but the facts remained so.

She was hurt, and when she was hurt, she got petty. She distanced herself, especially from Klaus, because they had always been the closest growing up. Recently, that distance was reinforced every time she announced his bastard status. It was her version of explosive anger.

However, she also meant what she told Elena. She would not abandon her family by taking the Cure.

Besides that… Rebekah had always been a bit too trusting and loyal for her own good. It was only a matter of time before she returned to Klaus’ side, the doting sister once more.

This time, though, it would be on _her_ terms.

She could only hope that they— _all_ of them, blood or not—would be better off in the long run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late again lol but you get two this time! Next one will be longer than this one and should be up within the hour. Hope you like it!


	23. The Prodigal Father Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you choose this path to fatherhood, I will stand with you, as your brother, as we did a century ago."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elijah Mikaelson, Elena Gilbert, Klaus Mikaelson, Camille O’Connell, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Hey Look Another Phone Call, Ooh Look More Symptoms Yay, Relationship Dynamics, Elijah Is Tired, Protective Elijah, Elena Gets Insecure for a Bit, Conversations, Klaus Introspection, Contrary To Popular Belief Klaus Is Not Impulsive Constantly

After hanging up with his sister, Elijah only hesitated for a moment before dialing a second number.

_“Hello?”_

Her voice was groggy and thick with sleep, but the ache in his chest faded a bit when he heard it. He’d been worried, before, when she didn’t call him back after her meeting with the Salvatores; knowing that she was safe and sound gave him an undeniable sense of relief.

“Elena,” he greeted softly.

 _“Oh.”_ There was the sound of shifting fabric, followed by a quiet huff—likely resulting from her sitting up in bed—and then the soft _click_ of a lamp. _“Elijah. Hi. Um—Good morning, I guess.”_

“Hardly.” He chuckled. “It’s only just past one.”

 _“It’s past two here,”_ she pointed out.

Elijah could almost _hear_ her rolling her eyes. He fought a grin as he asked, “Did I wake you?”

_“Maybe. Is everything okay down there?”_

He shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. “Klaus seems intent on abandoning Hayley and his child,” he said casually, keeping a keen eye trained on the scene playing out across the street between two particular blondes, “but I have a feeling he’ll come around.”

_“How did it go with Marcel?”_

“The witches are interring Jane-Anne’s body at the cemetery as we speak.” His voice was quiet in respect. “Soon, I will need to convince Niklaus to offer Marcel his blood to complete the deal, but I think I’ll let him… cool off first.”

Elena snorted. _“Did you two get into it?”_

“If by that you mean did we have a physical altercation,” he drawled. “We did.”

 _“Well, I’m guessing it wasn’t that bad,”_ she said lightly, _“since you’re talking to me and not, you know… desiccating in a box somewhere. So I’ll let it go for now and ask a different question.”_

“And what question would that be?”

_“How’s Hayley?”_

Elijah sighed. “She’s… alright, for now.” He shook his head. “Once I settle things with Klaus, I’ll ask the witches to release her to me.”

A scoff. _“Once you_ settle things _?”_ she repeated, scathing. _“That could take_ years _, Elijah. Come on. Be more specific. I don’t like the idea of her being stuck in a cemetery indefinitely.”_

His brow scrunched. “Why so worried for her health and safety?” he asked. “From what you’ve told me, I gather the two of you didn’t much get along.”

 _“We don’t.”_ Elena sighed. _“I barely even talked to her when she was in town, you know? Almost everything I know about her came from other people, or the fallout of the stunts she pulled, and just going off of that can be…”_

“Misleading?”

_“Yeah. And after everything with her and Klaus and Katherine—I can’t help but think there’s gotta be more to her than that.”_

She was quiet for a moment, but her silence carried the weight of something she wanted to articulate, so he didn’t say anything just yet, waiting.

 _“You never know,”_ she murmured finally. _“You know? You never know what it’s like to live someone’s life—what they’ve gone through, the things that make them who they are—without spending time with them. Talking, listening. So for now, Hayley is just some girl who happens to be pregnant. And pregnant women don’t deserve to be locked in a crypt.”_

Elijah smiled softly. “Never change, Elena,” he told her gently.

_“Elijah…”_

“You’re quite right, in any case,” he said before she could form a response. “However, I still hold out hope that Klaus will see sense before dawn. If not, I suppose I’ll have to plead my case without his approval.”

 _“Good,”_ she hummed. _“In the meantime, I’m gonna go see if Bekah is still awake—I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m gonna convince her to make the trip.”_

“Perhaps.” Elijah sighed. “In regard to _making the trip_ …”

 _“I’m gonna let you finish,”_ she cut in blandly, _“but I_ really _hope you’re not about to say what I think you’re about to say.”_

He paused for a moment, suddenly hesitant. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to be in the city right now.”

 _“That’s what I thought you were gonna say.”_ Elena scoffed, and he could feel her irritation through the phone. _“Elijah, I get that you want to keep me safe, but you can’t just push me out because it might be dangerous.”_

“Elena, the situation here is—”

 _“I know,”_ she interrupted again. _“I know it’s bad, and it’ll probably be bad for a while, but newsflash—I’m in danger no matter where I go. If I don’t go with you, I’ll stay here, in a town that’s slowly going insane, and then I’ll probably get swept up in some other drama or…”_ A frustrated huff. _“Look, the point is, if I wanna go, I will. If I wanna stay, I’ll stay.”_

“It’s always your decision,” Elijah said, voice stern. “I’m simply trying to lay out the facts so that you may make an informed decision. If you wish to move with me—with _us_ , then I will do my best to protect you still, as I promised before. If you would prefer to stay in Mystic Falls or relocate to some other town, I can help you make arrangements if you’d like.”

There was a long pause. He was fairly certain the young vampire on the other end was not breathing. This kind of dead quiet made him oddly nervous, and something in his chest dropped when she finally spoke; her voice was a cracked whisper, insecure in a way he hadn’t often heard in the year he’d known her.

_“You don’t want me to come with you. Do you?”_

“Elena…”

 _“Sorry,”_ she blurted. _“That was stupid, right? Expecting to just—follow you around.”_

“No, Elena,” he said, voice growing louder as she rambled, “it’s—”

_“It’s fine, I’ll just—”_

“Elena!” he barked finally. She stopped talking, jaw closing almost audibly, and he sighed deeply. “It’s not that I don’t want you with me,” he explained carefully, “and I’m not trying to make your decisions for you as… others would.” She made a soft noise of acknowledgment, and he knew she knew whom he was referring to. “But you must know that you will continue to have my support and my friendship regardless of our proximity, as well as that, if you choose to move with us to New Orleans, there will be no guarantee of your safety.”

 _“You should know me better than that by now, Elijah,”_ she said after a long pause. _“Since when have I ever cared about my own safety?”_

It brought him up short, just slightly. She was right, of course; he _should_ have known. She’d never veto a plan simply because it meant risking her life; the early days of their original alliance had proven that.

Elena took his momentary shock as a chance to add, _“The only things I’m worried about are you, Hayley, and the baby. I don’t want me being there to distract you from helping them and dealing with Klaus. As long as that’s not an issue… I wouldn’t have a problem moving with you._ If _that’s what you want, too.”_

* * *

Klaus didn’t bother turning when he felt a presence settle next to him on the bench. “Are you here to give me another pep talk on the joys of fatherhood?” he intoned. “Perhaps demand that I rectify things with Marcel for the sake of the child and its mother?”

“I’ve said all I needed to say,” Elijah said.

He paused for a moment, staring at the street, before musing, “I forgot how much I liked this town.”

The elder brother sighed. “I didn’t.” He tsked lightly. “All the centuries we’ve spent together, and yet I can count on one hand the number of times our family has been truly happy. I _hated_ leaving here.”

Klaus was quiet. Then he glanced over briefly to his brother and said, “As did I.”

Elijah leaned forward to catch his gaze again. “What is on your mind, brother?”

He closed his eyes, thinking of the words.

As a rule, Klaus was meticulous in his planning. His mother had raised all of her children to be precise in their speech, as well as how to hide their meaning behind blunt or flowery language. Usually, he channeled most of that meticulousness into planning his various missions, vendettas, takeovers—anything that required preparation and execution. Sometimes, when he was making a deal with someone, he would twist his words into barbs or soliloquy himself into a loophole.

However, he was also impulsive and reckless by nature; he said nasty, hateful things in the heat of the moment, things he rarely meant but could never allow himself to regret. It was a rare occurrence for him to walk this path, the path Elijah always took; contemplating, planning before speaking. That was partially because he was lazy, partially because it truly was an exhausting endeavor, and mostly because he had always found his brother’s loopholes incredibly irritating.

“For a thousand years, I lived in fear,” he said finally. “Any time I settled anywhere, our father would hunt me down and… chase me off.” His fingers danced in the air, a vague motion like running. “Off to the next city, the next country, the next continent. Never long enough to build a home without constantly glancing over my shoulder. He made me feel powerless, and I hated it.”

His fists clenched. Even knowing their father—both of their parents—were dead did nothing to soothe his anger at remembering their hatred for him. He was their child, biology or not, raised alongside their other children. Yet there had always been a subtle difference between their treatment of him and their treatment of their other children.

His siblings, as much as they liked bringing it up, as much as they continued to use it as a weapon against him, never truly cared once they found out, yet still he was burdened with the knowledge, the guilt, the despair. It had taken centuries to recognize that he was not their father’s hateful words, yet every time he so much as thought about the man, or even about his mother, all the anger and resentment he had ever felt for them came rushing back, and it was always hard to return from that dark place.

“This town was my home once,” Klaus continued. “The first I remember having since running from our father, and in my absence, Marcel has gotten everything that I ever wanted. Power, loyalty. Family.” He grimaced. “I made him in my image, and he has bettered me. I want what he has. I want to be King.”

Elijah was silent for a long moment after he finished. Then he took a breath and asked, “And what of Hayley? What of the baby, your child?”

He wasn’t entirely surprised when Klaus finally looked him in the eye, smirking with a new kind of light in his gaze that he hadn’t seen in five hundred years.

“Every king needs an heir,” he replied simply.

Elijah’s gaze was hard. “Is that really all this child means to you?” he demanded softly. “A grab for power?”

Klaus raised a brow, taking a moment to consider him. “What does it mean to you?” he wondered.

His brother’s head tilted, contemplating. “I think this child could offer you the one thing you’ve never believed you had.”

“And what is that?” he mused.

“The unconditional love of family.”

His voice was blunt, as always—Elijah had always had a tendency to drop conversational bombs in the most deadpan tone possible. Klaus blinked and frowned; before he could reply, Elijah continued.

“I have known you for your entire life, Niklaus,” he said softly, almost warning. “I know you better than anyone else on this planet.” A tired sigh. “You are my brother; parentage does not change that, and it never will, regardless of what Esther and Mikael would like you to think. We’ve had our differences, but I meant what I said. If you choose this path to fatherhood, the one that will, almost inevitably, lead you to reconnect with Marcellus and take the city—I will stand with you, as your brother, as we did a century ago.”

For a long minute, the younger man said nothing. They seemed locked in a staring contest, a battle of wills disguised with flat expressions.

Klaus was the first to break, turning back to the nearly empty street in front of them.

“Tell Sophie Devereaux we have a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support of this story!! I appreciate all of your kudos, your wonderful comments and reviews. My love to all of you!!
> 
> Happy reading!!


	24. I Put on This Show...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can’t just move hundreds of miles away. My mom would freak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Important Conversations, Tyler Should Get His Priorities In Order, Elena and Caroline Are Best Friends Remember?, Relationship Dynamics, Elijah Is Tired, Katherine Is Still In Denial, Protective Rebekah Mikaelson

Elena frowned as she watched Caroline ignore the call from the corner of her eye. It deepened when she saw her swipe away the voicemail notification.

Caroline wrinkled her nose at her. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, indignant. “Just because we’re kinda-sorta friends now, or whatever, doesn’t mean I have to talk to him anytime he wants.”

Elena’s eyes narrowed as she set the last of her clothes back in her suitcase, now folded properly. She still needed to go shopping; the bag was barely filled halfway, even with the few outfits she had “borrowed” (read: stolen) from Rebekah, and that wouldn’t cut it once they were in the city and had to be out and about almost daily.

“This is about more than just Klaus,” she said after a moment. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Caroline said quickly.

Too quickly. She always was a terrible liar; Elena could count on one hand the number of times she’d successfully lied to anyone in her inner circle.

The brunette raised a brow, and Caroline sighed heavily as she slumped on the bed.

“Tyler and I broke up,” she mumbled.

“What?” Elena leaned back on her heels, startled. “When? How? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“After Prom,” Caroline admitted quietly. “After you left, we got in this fight… He found out you were hanging out here and was kind of—mad.”

“It’s none of his business where I’m staying.” Her voice was firm. “And it doesn’t affect your relationship.”

“It does, though,” she said. “He found out about that, and I told him everything was fine, but he just started going on this rant about Klaus and wanting to kill him and how you should hate him, too, and—” She sighed, closing her eyes. “And I gave him a choice. Me or his vendetta.” Her eyes were teary when she looked up at her best friend. “He chose wrong.”

Elena quickly sat beside her on the bed, holding her as she sniffled. “Shh, you’re okay. It’s gonna be fine…”

“Klaus found me, after,” Caroline sobbed. “He drove me home, and it was—‘Lena, I just _can’t_. I can’t right now.”

“I know.” She sighed, rubbing the girl’s back in a soothing motion. “I know. It’s okay. There’s no rush—you have time to figure it out. It’s all gonna be fine.”

It took a while before Caroline calmed down. Once silence settled around them, Elena leaned back and took her hand.

“Why don’t you come with us?” she suggested.

“What?” The blonde’s eyes went wide with shock. “To _Louisiana_? Elena…”

“Come on, Care,” the Doppelgänger goaded with a smile. “New Orleans barely counts as Louisiana, or so I’ve heard.” She nudged her. “Besides, I could use my best friend. Especially if Klaus is still being a prick about Hayley.”

She scoffed. “I can’t just move hundreds of miles away,” she protested. “My mom would _freak_.”

Elena shrugged. “Would she? You’re eighteen, you graduate high school in a couple months anyway—you can make your own decisions.”

“I…”

“Just think about it, okay?” She pat her arm lightly. “We probably won’t leave until tonight.” The strains of an argument trickled in from down the hall, and she tuned into that for a moment before sighing. “I should probably see what that’s about,” she mused.

Caroline picked up her phone and began playing with it. Elena tilted her head and smiled.

“You should listen to it,” she told her. Caroline jumped and glanced over with wide eyes. “Klaus’ message,” she clarified. She hopped up and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go talk some sense into them. Give you a minute.”

In the office nook just past the sitting room, Rebekah was refusing to go to New Orleans on the basis of wanting to stay in her home.

“So that’s it?” she demanded. “I’m just supposed to pack my things, forget my life here, while you give the Cure to Silas and Bonnie to do God knows what, and we’ll all go down to New Orleans, one big, happy, _dysfunctional_ family?”

“Rebekah—”

“It’s why I wanted the Cure,” she insisted. “To live a normal life. Now I’ve given that up, for you lot, no less, and you want me to abandon the one piece of normalcy I have left?”

“The Cure was a fool’s errand,” Elijah scoffed. “Taking it would have stripped you of everything you are, everything you could be, and for what?” His smirk was incredulous. “More high school proms?”

“I wanted to be _human_! Have a normal life!” Rebekah crossed her arms, defensive. “I wanted children, a family.”

He gestured outward, approaching her. “And I stand here offering both, and so much more. This child will _be_ our family, and you will still have your immortality. Perhaps you’ll even get to rekindle things with Marcellus. It will be all of us, always and forever, as it was meant to be.”

“And if I decide against you?” she demanded. “Will I have nothing to show but dagger in my heart? Back in a box I go?”

Elena shook her head, rounding the corner. “Even if he tried, I wouldn’t let that happen,” she said. “Stay here if you want, but trust me: You’re going to regret it.”

Elijah frowned. “I’ve made my case. Your family needs you, and what choice you make right now is your own.”

Elena watched as the youngest sibling studied the eldest for a long minute.

Then Rebekah sighed and stepped closer, hand on her hip with her lips twisted in a slight moue. “Klaus has done nothing but ruin our lives for centuries,” she said, voice cold and bland. “I owe him nothing. I wish him no joy, no love. If we were smart, we’d stay here and live out our lives as we please, rather than going off on his whims.”

“She’s right.”

All three heads snapped around. Katherine leaned against the threshold, frowning at them all—Elena, in particular, seemed to annoy her, to no one’s surprise.

“Be smart, Elijah,” she continued. “Klaus is stark raving mad, not to mention completely irredeemable. Leave him to set off on this new adventure, and let’s you and I go out on ours.”

She approached him, and Elena forced herself to remain still and quiet. Elijah turned away from the older Doppelgänger, flashing her younger counterpart a brief, apologetic look.

“I have lost so much of my life to Klaus,” Katherine murmured, touching his arm. “So have you. It’s our turn.” Her eyes were wide and hopeful as she looked up at him. “Elijah, _please_.”

Elijah shook his head, gently removing her hand from his arm.

“I’m sorry, Katerina,” he said, gentle but resolute. “But I meant what I said before. You’ve lied to me and manipulated me for the last time. Any feelings I had for you are faded to near obscurity.”

Her eyes hardened as she stepped back. “But you’re ready to start a life with _her_?” She sneered at Elena. “How can you even know for sure that she’s the one you want? We’re identical.”

“Appearance wise, yes,” he agreed, turning to stand by the other woman’s side. “But only just so—I know the difference. I always have.”

Katherine simmered in rage, opening her mouth to retort before biting it back with a growl and lunging for the girl’s throat. Before Elijah could move to block the attack, Rebekah clotheslined her, dropping her to the ground easily.

The blonde stood over her as Katherine heaved, the wind knocked out of her. She sneered and spat, “Get the hell out of my house, bitch.”

Katherine didn’t offer them a second glance before she disappeared, and Rebekah turned back to her brother and friend with a sunny smile.

“When do we leave?”


	25. …But I Can’t Hide the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve made my decision.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Mentions of Caroline and Liz, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, Admiission of Feelings, Warning for Kissing I Guess bc it’s not a great scene I don’t know what I’m doing lol, Finally! Elejah! Yay!

It didn’t take long to forge their stories.

Elena had come back to her room to find Caroline staring at her phone. It didn’t take much more prodding before the blonde agreed to join them—as soon as she talked to her mom, of course.

Sheriff Forbes was hard to convince, but she ultimately realized that Caroline wasn’t backing down; aside from vervaining her and locking her up for a few decades, there wasn’t much she could do to stop it. Instead of arguing—much—she insisted on regular check-ins from both her daughter and Elena, just in case. She also demanded they be back in time for graduation; she wasn’t going to miss her daughter walking across the stage. And they had to come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas—and Halloween, which they’d bartered for over the Fourth of July because the Fourth was too close to graduation to make the trip.

After all the arguing—and no small number of tears—it was off to the races, everyone scrambling to get ready.

Once he knew who was making the trip, Elijah set out to have a chat with Silas and Bonnie about the Cure and their plans for the Other Side. Elena offered to go with him, but Rebekah had linked their arms with a bright smile and insisted that she needed practice with her compulsion, anyway, so it was better to go with the girls.

The two of them, plus Caroline, took the hour Elijah was gone to go meet with school officials and “convince” them to allow the girls to do a bit of distance learning; as far as their teachers knew, the three were on an extended vacation to help a friend settle into a new home. They’d email their schoolwork when it was due and return in a month or so for final testing and graduation. For Elena and Caroline, it was very much a _perks of being Founding Family and top of the class_ situation; for Rebekah, it was _perks of being rich_.

(At least the Original didn’t have paperwork—there was only so much compulsion could do when you grew up in a small town. While Elena and Caroline were stuck in the office, Rebekah was touring the halls.

She was just passing the library when she ran into Matt.

“Oh,” he muttered. “Hey.”

She grimaced. “Matt.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before the boy straightened slightly, frowning. “Bonnie told me she and Silas got the Cure.”

She glanced away. “It’s for the best,” she intoned. “With my family leaving town, taking the Cure would only cause problems.”

“I’m sorry—I know how much you wanted it.”

Rebekah shook her head. “I wanted what it could give me,” she corrected with a sad smile. “But I know realistically that would never have happened.” A sigh. “You’re one of the people that helped me see that.”

“Let me guess,” Matt said with a laugh. “Elena was the other one.”

Her head tilted. “How did you know?”

“Please.” He scoffed. “Where do you think all my speeches come from?” He grinned. “She tells me things all the time to make me feel better. I just recycle.”

Rebekah laughed. Her eyes darted to the books in his hands; her brow wrinkled. “Italian, math, science… already cramming for finals?” she joked.

Matt frowned, glancing down. “No, I…” He sighed. “Look, just be glad you can leave this town. Some of us are stuck here, broke and failing all our classes. You’re not.”

Her mouth opened and shut a few times, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “If you need help…”

He shook his head. “I just… don’t wanna be left behind as the only repeat senior when everyone else is going off to college,” he admitted. “Sorry, that’s lame.”

“No, it isn’t,” the Original scolded, crossing her arms. She pursed her lips for a moment, thinking. “Are you truly failing all of your classes?”

“Most of them,” he sighed, nodding. “I have an A in Government, Public Speaking, and Gym, and everything else is a straight D-minus, so…”

“Right.” Rebekah huffed. “Well, as I was saying, if you need help, you can always call me. I could tutor you. Statistics, Physics, Literature, _Lo Italiano_.” She grinned.

Matt shook his head. “You’re busy—”

“Never too busy for you, Matt Donovan.” Her smile was a bit sad but thoroughly genuine. “And for the record… anyone who leaves you behind is a fool.”

“I… Thank you.”

“Of course.” She nodded. “We can set up a tutoring schedule once I’ve gotten to New Orleans—send me your work schedule, and I’ll figure something out.”)

The girls were back at their respective homes by three o’clock, the two blondes needing to pack their things for the extended trip. Elena had bartered with Caroline—they’d go on an extended shopping trip in the city if she limited her luggage to three suitcases.

She had agreed immediately. Elena hated shopping—she always managed to escape trips when Caroline organized them.

Being the only one who didn’t need to pack, and with Elijah in his study finishing making the arrangements he needed to safeguard their travels and acquire a place for the six (soon to be six and a half) of them to live, Elena was left alone for over an hour.

She was almost grateful for the time alone—it gave her time to think, and thinking was exactly what she did.

Elena thought long and hard about where she was and where she was going. She thought about the connection she could feel between herself and the eldest living Original, something that she couldn’t really explain and had never felt before with anyone else, but that she knew could only be one thing. It didn’t take long to realize she wasn’t ready to let it go—or that she _was_ ready to move on, from Stefan, from Damon, from Mystic Falls and everything holding her back.

When Elijah emerged from his office, Elena greeted him in the entry to the sitting room with a smile playing on her lips, following him in and accepting the glass of bourbon he offered to her.

As he turned to walk over to the sofa, she quickly downed her drink and set the glass down before blurting, “I’ve made my decision.”

Elijah paused mid-step, glass halfway to his lips when his head snapped up at her words. He didn’t turn around or acknowledge them in any way, but she knew he was waiting.

“Elijah?”

“Have you?” he said finally. There was barely any inflection in his voice at all—it was hardly a question, even, more a statement.

Elena fought not to flinch at the tone, even though she knew it was just his way of masking his emotions. “I have,” she repeated, forceful.

She waited until he turned to look at her before she smiled and shrugged, taking a step closer.

“I…” Elena swallowed past the sudden lump of anxiety in her throat. “I was talking to Rebekah the other night, and—it just hit me.” Her hand went to her stomach, just beside her ribs. “Right here. I… kinda realized that—I made my decision a while ago, actually. I just,” she stuttered, lips thinning in frustration, “I didn’t want to admit it because it might be too fast, and maybe a little too much.”

Elijah tilted his head, setting his drink aside on a table. Elena took another step forward, and he barely hesitated a second before taking her hand, cupping her palm.

“What is it?” he murmured.

She smiled and tilted her head back to look up at him. Her free hand came up to caress his jaw lightly.

“I kind of… love you,” Elena said, quietly but decisively, and watched as a small smile stole across his lips. “I love you, Elijah. I’m not gonna pull a Katherine and say it’s our turn to be happy, because it’s not. This is… actually probably one of the worst times I could’ve picked to tell you this.”

She laughed, eyes closing briefly, and it turned into a long sigh. When she looked back up, he was watching her with both curiosity and amazement dancing in his eyes.

“Right now,” she continued, “you’re on your way to force your brother to care for his child, and knowing him, you’ll probably also be ruling over New Orleans in the next few months, or years. There’s a lot that’s going on.” She took a breath and smiled. “But I… I know you think it’s not safe, that I should stay behind but I—I’m hoping you’ll let me come with you anyway, and maybe we can figure _us_ out, too.”

Elena squeezed his hand, the hand on his jaw sliding to the back of his neck and up into his hair.

“So… What do you think?” she asked after a moment, suddenly nervous when he didn’t respond. Her teeth gnawed anxiously at the inside of her lip. “Do you want to take a shot at it?”

Elijah smiled softly, quiet for another moment. He gently shifted his hold on her hand so that their fingers were entwined, then lifted his other hand to caress her cheek with a feather-light touch. Her eyelids fluttered slightly, almost closing, as he leaned closer.

He paused just shy of touching her lips with his, changing course suddenly to lean down to her neck. It was oddly reminiscent of their first meeting, and he smiled when he felt the little jolt run through her as she remembered, too.

His lips ghosted across the base of her throat. “Yes,” he murmured against her skin. His mouth trailed up to her pulse, where he placed another kiss. “Yes.” Beneath her jaw. “Yes.” Over her cheek, beneath her closed eye. “Yes.”

Elijah paused at her lips again, feeling her shake ever so slightly in his arms. Her face was relaxed in bliss and joy, and he watched her eyelids flutter for a moment as he hovered ever closer to her mouth without touching.

After a long, quiet minute, Elijah smiled. “Yes,” he repeated. “Of course, Elena. Always and forever, remember?”

Then he crashed their lips together before she could so much as open her eyes.

It wasn’t like their first kiss in the slightest; that had been child’s play, a peck, compare to this. It wasn’t violent, per se, but there was no hesitation on either part.

As heated as it was, the kiss was still chaste, as first kisses often were. Neither were in any particular hurry to deepen it, content with a simple slide of lips against each other; they had plenty of time, after all.

When they finally drew away, both gasping slightly, Elijah watched with almost primal fascination as her bruised and kiss-swollen lips slowly returned to their normal shape and hue. Glancing up, he saw her eyes lingering on his own mouth before flickering quickly to meet his.

Elena grinned, tilting up for another, lighter kiss before backing off slightly. “I love you,” she murmured. Just saying it made her smile widen.

His thumb swept across the red of her cheek as he smiled fondly. “I love you, too,” he told her before leaning back in for another kiss.

Elena didn’t bother to stop the happy giggle that slipped out before their lips clashed once more.


	26. Caroline's Gonna Snap (Somebody's Neck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You couldn’t get over how we’re identical—and you told me that we were alike in more than just our looks. You said that. Remember?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Damon Salvatore, Rebekah Mikaelson, Stefan Salvatore, Caroline Forbes, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, Admiission of Feelings, Damon Being Damon, Stefan Is Trying, Kinda-Protective Rebekah, Protective Caroline, Mostly Though She’s Just a Little Petty, Look Klaroline Might Not Be My Number One But It’s Still There and I Still Love It

Of course, the glow of a new relationship, that giggly high she was riding, didn’t last long.

Half an hour later, she and Elijah were debating in the library over what to pack and what to have shipped—i.e. he was trying to convince her to part with her collection of Eliot, Frost, Browning, and Auden in favor of Voltaire, Dumas, Wharton, and Chopin, and failing rather spectacularly—when the doorbell rang. It cut Elijah off mid-sentence, and he frowned in concerned confusion. Elena had just smiled and kissed his cheek, promising to be right back.

She answered the door with a grin, expecting to find Caroline waiting. Instead, the smile faded from her lips as she was encountered with the face of a much darker vampire.

“Damon.” Her voice was hard. She straightened her spine and crossed her arms, automatically going on the defensive. “What are you doing here?”

He ignored the question. “Were you seriously gonna move to New Orleans without telling anybody?” he demanded. “I had to hear it from _Liz_ of all people?”

Elena rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to run my decisions by you anymore, Damon,” she reminded him.

“I love you—”

“This again?” She glared at him. “Damon, love doesn’t equal trust. It doesn’t mean that we have to be together, either, or that you can make my choices for me.”

“Look—I’m sorry, okay?” he grit out. “How many times do I have to say it? I’m _sorry_. Just—stay here, Elena. We can work it out, go back to the way it was before—”

“Before?” She scoffed. “You mean when you could tell me what to do without a fight? Back then?”

“You know it wasn’t like that.”

“It _was_ like that.” A sigh. “Look, I’m not saying it was all fake, but it wasn’t _real_ , either. The feelings were, they were so real sometimes I felt like I was suffocating, but you made me… you made me do things that I might not have done. No—that I _wouldn’t_ have done. And that’s not okay.”

Damon grit his teeth around a growl. “So that’s it?” he demanded. “You’re just giving up, not even gonna give us another chance?”

“I _can’t_ , Damon.” Elena stepped out onto the porch, throwing her hands up in frustration before clenching her fists at her sides. “Don’t you _get_ that? I can’t be with someone I don’t trust—”

“So then I guess you’re moving on with _Elijah_?” He blinked, incredulous. “The guy has betrayed you—all of us—over and over, and you’re just gonna—”

“Yes!” she finally yelled. “Yes, Damon, I’m with Elijah now! Elijah respects my decisions, even when they don’t benefit him. _Elijah_ doesn’t force me into things he knows I’m not comfortable with. _Elijah_ understands that things take _time_. We understand each other. We always have. You’ve never understood me, not like you think you do! You’re always so caught up in the similarities between me and Katherine that you don’t see how completely _different_ we are!”

“I never thought you were anything like Katherine,” he spat.

“Yes, you did,” she screamed, shoving him back. “You couldn’t get over how we’re identical—and you told me that we were alike in more than just our looks. _You_ said that. Remember?”

“I was _hurt_ , Elena.” He reached out as if to touch her, growling when she smacked his hand away. “I just wanted you to hurt as much as I did. Yeah, it was a crappy thing to say, but you _know_ me, Elena—you know I do stupid stuff sometimes.”

“But you didn’t apologize, so it must be something you thought for a while.” Elena shook her head. “You can’t have it both ways. I can’t be with you without turning into her, and you’ve got some twisted double standards when it comes to the two of us.”

“I—”

“I suggest you leave her alone, Damon.” Elijah stepped outside, door left open behind him. “She’s made her decision. You need to accept that.”

“Damon.” Suddenly Stefan and Caroline were there, Caroline setting her bags off to the side as Stefan approached the house with a stern look. “You need to leave,” he said, eyes hard.

The darker brother scowled and gestured at the couple. “Seriously? You’re not even a little bit upset about this?”

“Of course I am,” Stefan replied, sounding tired. “But it’s none of our business. She doesn’t want to stay with either of us. It’s her life.”

“Listen to your brother,” Elijah suggested, taking Elena’s hand. “Leave it alone, Damon.”

The darker Salvatore glared at their linked hands, almost shaking with rage. “How can you do this?” he demanded, meeting her gaze. “How can you just—move on with him? Them! They _killed you_ , Elena. Twice!”

“Let it go, Damon,” she snapped, taking a half a step forward. She might have gone toe-to-toe with him had Elijah not subtly pulled her hand just enough to hold her back. Even so, her eyes narrowed dangerously as they met Damon’s. “It’s none of your business who I’m dating,” she spat. “It’s no one’s business but mine, and I’ve debated this at length. So— _Back. Off._ ”

Rather than doing as she demanded, Damon turned to glare at the Original. Before he could open his mouth to start another argument, a blonder Original appeared in the doorway of the mansion.

“What’s this business, then?” Rebekah snarked. “Your ex bothering you, Elena?”

“We were just leaving,” Stefan intoned. He settled a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder and pulled, forcing him back a step.

“Why must you always save him from himself?” she demanded. “Let him get himself killed, what do you care?”

“He’s my brother,” he said, tone subdued. “Family is the only thing that matters anymore.”

Rebekah’s eyes flickered to her brother, who had moved to stand defensively in front of his sister and his girlfriend, blocking Damon’s access. “I suppose I can understand that,” she mused, bitter.

“This is ridiculous.” Damon shook his brother’s hand from his arm. “Elena, just come home with us. Whatever you want, I’ll do it. Don’t let the _Originals_ kidnap you and manipulate you and whatever else.”

“I take offense to that,” the youngest muttered.

“I’m with Elijah now, Damon,” Elena said, stern. “I’m not—I can’t—I won’t go back with you. I _won’t_. Will not.”

He growled, eyes darkening and veins wriggling under the skin, and lunged at the couple. Elijah jerked her arm, moving her fully behind his body and reached out defensively, but the younger man dropped to the ground before he got within a foot of either of them.

Caroline leaned against the entry beside Rebekah, dusting her hands off on her clothes with a cheery— _creepy_ —smirk. “Man, I’ve always wanted to do that,” she chirped when they all looked at her with varying degrees of astonishment. She waved vaguely. “Stefan, you take Damon home and talk some sense into him. As for the rest of us… we’ve got a plane to catch, right?”

Elena gave a startled laugh. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “This totally explains why Klaus is attracted to you.”

“Shut up!”


	27. Being a Mikaelson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think we all know it’s inevitable that you two will be seen together at some point. Putting your story out now is the simplest way to ensure Elena isn’t accidentally targeted. Or intentionally targeted, whichever comes first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Sophie Devereaux, Hayley Marshall, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Important Conversations, Sibling Bickering, Relationship Dynamics, Look Klaroline Might Not Be My Number One But It’s Still There and I Still Love It, Elena Might Not Be Able To Fool Elijah But She’s Still a Pretty Good Actress, Introductions, Elena Is a Med-Nerd

Between negotiating with Klaus, putting things in place to deal with the witches, and handling the most recent conflict with Marcel, Elijah hadn’t actually made it back to Mystic Falls until Wednesday morning. Most of that day was spent packing—with a few declarations scattered throughout—and then he, Elena, Caroline, and Rebekah made their way to New Orleans in the afternoon. It was nearing six o’clock in the evening when they arrived in the city.

Though Elijah and Klaus had arranged for a house for them—as the Abattoir was clearly off the table—it needed massive updates to the appliances, pipes, bedding, etcetera. Not to mention the fact that it needed some _serious_ airing out before it was a suitable living space for anyone, especially hyper-sensitive vampires and a pregnant werewolf. They couldn’t move in until Thursday at the earliest; preferably Friday, but they were in a bit of a hurry.

Elijah arranged rooms for them to stay in at a hotel in the city for the night—the same one he and Klaus were staying at, of course—before setting out to retrieve Hayley from the witches.

Neither he nor Elena wanted to leave the werewolf in the capture of the New Orleans coven for even one more night, especially given where they were holding her. Even if they’d moved from the crypt and back to wherever they had been in the bayou, it was no place for an expectant mother.

The Original only reluctantly allowed the Doppelgänger to accompany him, and only after she expressed her displeasure at the thought of being left alone to mediate his siblings’ drama.

Within minutes of reuniting at the hotel, the younger Originals were locked in sarcastic, sardonic quarrel, pulling everyone they could find into it, as usual. Caroline was smart enough to make herself scarce before Klaus could even notice her presence in the city at all, but Elena wasn’t so lucky. The hybrid almost immediately zeroed in on her, eyeing her warily and seeming to search for something in the space around her. Whether he was looking for his brother or a particular blonde, she couldn’t tell, and he’d quickly gone back to arguing with his sister, somehow managing to make Elena’s very presence in the city (and outside of Mystic Falls in general) out to be some great point of discourse.

To be honest, the two had nearly driven her crazy with their bickering when Elijah returned from depositing his suitcase and announced his plan to retrieve Hayley. Rebekah, at least, supported Elena when she suggested he take her with him.

(“I can’t go,” she had said when she saw Elijah’s surprise. “If we want this plan you and Nik have formed to work, it’s best if I’m kept separate from your business with the witches.” A smirk curled her lips. “But I think we all know it’s inevitable that you two will be seen together at some point. Putting your story out now is the simplest way to ensure Elena isn’t accidentally targeted. Or intentionally targeted, whichever comes first.”

“Our story?” Elena had wrinkled her nose.

“And what do you suggest we tell them, sister?” Elijah had asked, amused.

Rebekah shrugged. “Elena is basically family,” she’d replied, startling them both. “Klaus may protest that, but even he wouldn’t waste a second before coming to her rescue if she needed it.” She eyed her brother warily, adding, “Likely not for _her_ sake, but for _yours_.”

To Elena’s confusion, the elder Original had only frowned, his eyes narrowing. “He never would have before,” he grit out. “The last time we were here, a century and a half ago—”

“That was different, and you know it,” the blonde interrupted, eyes cutting to the Doppelgänger in almost-apology. “ _Elena_ is different. If you think Klaus would dare lay a hand on her in anger—or let anyone else, for that matter—knowing that you would find out and be hurt by it, you’ve gone absolutely mad. He needs you too much to do something stupid like that.”

“As much as I hate to give Klaus the benefit of the doubt,” Elena said slowly, “Rebekah’s right. If we’re seen together now, and I’m introduced as part of the family, it’ll make it a lot easier to keep me safe, Elijah.”

“You’re far more likely to be targeted by our enemies if our connection comes out,” he protested. As protests went, it was a weak one.

She rolled her eyes. “Elijah, how long do you think you can keep my _connection_ to this family a secret?” she retorted, crossing her arms. “The only way to guarantee that is if I stay home, and we both know how likely that is.” A sigh. “Besides, after how you reacted the last time Klaus tried to hurt me… I think he got the message.” She shook her head, ignoring the look of piqued interest Rebekah shot her. “You know I’m right.”

The elder Original was quiet for a long moment before exhaling a heavy breath and nodding. “Very well,” he said, reluctant. Rebekah grinned, and he shot her a look. “If this is your solution for Elena being seen with me, what will be said for Caroline? She’s just as likely to be seen with Klaus.”

A smirk curled at the corner of her lips as she raised a brow. “You handle the witches with Elena. I’m sure Klaus will figure out a way to explain Caroline’s place amongst us to Marcel.”)

The Sun was just low enough in the sky to hide behind the tall stone crypts when Elena and Elijah arrived at the cemetery. They stood close enough together to show they trusted each other, but not so close as to give the witch any hint as to the nature of their relationship. For now, it was best to remain as vague as possible. Elena was also careful to maintain a mask of boredom mixed with politeness; she and Elijah had spoken of their plan on the way, both agreeing it would be best for her not to display her true temperament (aka her bleeding heart, as Rebekah would say) right off the bat.

The two were met at the gate by a severe-looking young woman. Sophie Devereaux.

“Elijah,” she greeted, tone flat. Elena noticed that her eyes didn’t leave the Original as she asked, “Who’s this? Your sister?”

The man only smirked. “No, Miss Devereaux, though I don’t doubt you’ll be meeting Rebekah in due time.” He gestured between them. “Elena, meet Sophie Devereaux, the witch plotting war between my brother and Marcel.”

“Hmm,” the girl mused, mouth tilting wryly. She crossed her arms and leaned casually against the gate just outside the boundary of the cemetery. “I thought you’d be taller. More… witchy.”

“Elena.” It wasn’t quite a warning—there was too much amusement laced in it. “Propriety.” He tilted his head just so. “Miss Devereaux, meet Elena. She’s here to ensure the safety of Hayley and her unborn child.”

“Don’t you mean her child with Klaus?” the witch retorted.

Elena huffed a laugh. “I honestly couldn’t care less about Klaus’ connection to the baby,” she said breezily. Almost careless. “He’s being a brat.” She shrugged. “Hayley deserves the chance to be a good mom. Elijah has asked me to help her do that, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. In fact, I don’t even really care about your war with Marcel at all. No offense, but I really don’t see why you don’t just kill him. I get why Klaus wouldn’t, but you?”

Her partner sighed. “You’ll have to excuse her,” he told Sophie apologetically. “She’s not one for… intricacy. Of those in my family, Elena is one of the youngest.”

Sophie shrugged. “Whatever.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked the girl over. She seemed to be inspecting her, analyzing, trying to determine her age, perhaps, or a weakness of some sort; Elena doubted she was successful.

“Just what kind of _old friend_ are you? One like Marcel?”

That probably meant either _sleeping with one of the Originals_ or _turned by one of them_.

Possibly both.

Neither were strictly true, though, so Elena just shrugged. “The kind that would do just about anything to keep the Mikaelsons safe,” she replied, tone sugary sweet. “Old and new. That’s all you need to know.”

“If we’re going to be working together—”

“Let me be clear,” Elijah interjected smoothly. “The two of you will not be coordinating at any stage of this operation unless absolutely necessary— _crucial_. In fact, if all goes to plan, you’ll never see each other again after this meeting.”

Sophie’s mouth pursed in an obvious show of irritation. Elena wasn’t sure if it was because the Original had interrupted her, or because she had been hoping to dig up dirt on the weakest link. Either way, whether she wanted an apology or something to use against them later, she was out of luck. They weren’t that kind of people, especially not around these witches.

“Fine,” she spat instead. “Come on, Elijah. I’ll take you to check on the werewolf—we can talk about our plans on the way.”

“I take that to mean you won’t be inviting me in?” Elena asked innocently.

Elijah had told her on the way there about the cemetery’s boundary. No vampire could cross unless invited by a living being. Strange, but she wasn’t about to test it and get bounced out.

She rolled her eyes when the witch just raised a brow. “Fine.” She slipped her jacket from her shoulders. “Here,” she said, handing the fabric to Elijah. “It’s weirdly chilly out here for April in Louisiana, and I doubt Hayley has a jacket. Besides, hormones make your temperature go crazy during pregnancy, especially since I’m sure she hasn’t been eating right or getting enough fluids in the last week.”

“We’re not cruel,” Sophie protested. “We gave her food and water.”

Elena snapped a look at the woman. “And how many times has she gotten sick?” she asked, tone sharp. “Did you give her enough fluids to account for that? She probably needs iron, too, since she’ll probably suffer from anemia as early as her second trimester. Plus Omega 3’s, because werewolves are usually born early, and we need to prevent that for as long as possible.”

She stepped as close to the witch as possible with the boundary between them. Her hands were on her hips, chin tilted up as her eyes practically glowed with defiance and challenge.

“Tell me, _Sophie_ ,” she spat. “Did you think of any of that when you were holding her locked in a crypt for days and doing your spells in the bayou before that? Did you? Because I seriously doubt that.”

The witch grit her teeth, her hands forming fists at her sides, and moved half a step forward before Elijah stepped between them.

“Now, ladies,” he warned, voice tight. “Let’s not be unpleasant.”

He sent Elena a look, eyes dark and intense, and waited until she put her hands up in mock surrender and took a step back away from the gate. On his other side, Sophie huffed and stepped back as well, though she didn’t seem happy about it.

“It’s good thinking, Elena,” Elijah said softly. “I’m sure Hayley will appreciate it.”

She smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

“Why do you know so much about werewolf pregnancies, anyway?” Sophie snapped.

“I know a lot about _pregnancies_ ,” Elena corrected blandly. “My dad was a doctor—you’d be surprised how much you pick up about anything medical when you’re at the hospital every day after school. As for the werewolf stuff… I have friends. They talk, I listen.”

Before the witch could say anything else, ask any more questions or dig something else up, Elijah raised a hand. “That’s quite enough,” he mused. He gestured further into the cemetery. “Shall we?”

As the two ventured off on the stone path, Elena turned to lean back against the iron gate. She tilted her head up, watching the fading afternoon light and humming softly to herself before tuning in to the conversation behind her.

“You didn’t tell me you invited friends to the city, Elijah,” Sophie intoned, almost scathing.

“You may have noticed I labeled Elena as family. She may not be a Mikaelson by blood, but the bond she shares with us is just as strong. She is as devoted to my siblings and I as we are to each other—and just as protected, might I add. Perhaps more so.”

There was a pause before Sophie seemed to shake herself out of it. “Still. You could have warned us. Or me. Are there others I need to be worried about?”

“Only one other—Elena’s sister, also Klaus’ close friend,” he informed her, tone bland. “She won’t have much to do with either the witches or Marcel; like Elena, she’s here for the child and its parents, though she cares for her sister above all.” A pause. “As for warning the witches, I didn’t realize I needed to.” There was a clear warning in Elijah’s voice. “Our agreement is only that my brother and I assist you in your coup of the city in exchange for the safety of the child.”

The witch huffed, frustrated. “You know _exactly_ what I mean,” she hissed. “It’s bad enough we’ve managed to bring half of the Originals back to town, and now you’re inviting more vampires Marcel can track? Elijah, _no one_ can know our arrangement. Marcel _will_ retaliate, and I won’t allow any more dead witches.”

“Now, now,” he murmured. “That’s not something that can be guaranteed. This _is_ a war you’re planning, Miss Devereaux—call it what you like, but the base is the same.”

“Are you really saying ‘a rose by any other name’ right now?”

“I believe you are the one who said that.”

Elena could almost see him in her mind’s eye, watch his lips twitching in that half-smirk of his. She wasn’t sure when she’d memorized him, but it was probably sometime between the day she daggered him and the day he turned her humanity back on. She may not always be able to read him or know what he’s thinking, but she knew his expressions well enough.

“But put simply,” Elijah continued, “yes.” He sighed. “A war by any other name is still a war, and wars are usually known for their casualties. You cannot guarantee the safety of every witch in the city, nor should you try to do so.”

“What kind of person would I be if I didn’t at least _try_ to save my people?” Sophie scoffed. “All of them, not just some or most.”

“It’s called being practical. Realistic.”

“It’s called being a monster,” she corrected bitterly. “A selfish one, at that. But I guess I shouldn’t expect any better from a vampire.”

Elena bit back a growl. How dare she say something so—so callous. Elijah didn’t deserve that.

This witch should show some respect to the Originals. Even Elena herself had never been so flippant with any of them. At least, not until she’d gotten close to them, known them long enough to know exactly where they were coming from and what made them tick. Sophie hadn’t earned that right, and if she continued on this path, she never would; Elena would kill her herself before she ever got the chance.

Elijah huffed, not exactly a breath but not really a laugh either. “You should watch your tone, Miss Devereaux,” he said, perfectly polite. “The boundaries of this cemetery only stretch so far, and though you’re currently linked to a woman of some import to us, that won’t last forever. While I don’t take particular offense to someone questioning my already questionable morals, especially after several centuries of it, I cannot say the same for Elena. She’s rather… idealistic, for one your people would call a demon. She does not take kindly to insults such as yours.”

Sophie made an odd noise of surprise. “You can’t be serious. I’m sure she’s just as bad as the rest of you. I can practically feel the power and frustration from her, even now. It’s like an aura hovering just under the surface—she can’t possibly be stable.”

“You should also know,” he added after a quiet moment, his voice low and dangerous, “that I do not particularly like it when her character is attacked. Nor does my sister, for that matter. You would do well to take care in your words if this arrangement is to work out to your favor.”

“Whatever.”

A pause. They turned down a different path, further toward the center of the grounds. Elena counted Elijah’s footsteps—they were normally so quiet, it was strange hearing how they crunched audibly over the loose stones.

“Anyway, back to Marcel.”

“Yes.” Elijah sighed. “What, exactly, is your plan in his regard?”

“I want you and your brother to make him suffer,” Sophie said, tone oddly casual for the dark words. “Undermine his rule. _Distract_ him.” Another, shorter pause, and Elena was sure the witch was cutting him what was supposed to be a stern, intimidating look, fat lot it would do her. “I don’t care what you do or how you do it, just that he’s kept busy. Above all—keep him alive.”

“And why is that?” he challenged. “Why are the witches so concerned with the life of one vampire? You speak of rules, and yet those rules seem to be of your own making.”

She tsked. “You’ll need to earn my trust before I let you in on the witches’ business.” She grabbed a door to wrench it open. “Just know that he needs to remain unharmed.”

“Oh,” the Original sighed, amused. “You have no idea what you’re asking. My brother’s temper is legendary, even for an Original. Keeping Marcel alive might not be an issue, but unharmed? That may be above my paygrade, so to speak.”

Elena’s thoughts flashed briefly to a particular blonde friend of theirs who might be up to the challenge. The _shrieeeek_ of the door as it opened, followed by it clanging against the stone wall, broke her from that thought, though.

“Well then,” Sophie told him, cheery, “I guess you got your work cut out for you.”

They didn’t bother to shut the door behind them, which made sense—Elijah wouldn’t be staying long, and that noise was hideous enough once. It certainly made it easier for Elena to listen in.

Hayley voiced her displeasure the second they stepped into the crypt.

“What the hell?” she demanded. “You all just left me in some filthy tomb overnight and all day?” She scoffed. “Has everyone forgotten that I’m _pregnant_? What the hell!”

Elena laughed softly. The stories her friends told truly did not do the woman justice.

“Release her to me,” Elijah said, presumably to Sophie. Possibly also to the other witch she could hear pacing near the door. “As a token of good faith,” he added when they didn’t respond. “The girl is carrying my family. Therefore she, too, is my family. We’ll protect her.”

“You maybe shouldn’t talk about her like she’s not there,” Elena said aloud.

Realistically, if she was listening to Elijah, Elijah was probably listening to her.

Almost simultaneously, Hayley pressed her boot into the ground in an almost-stomp and retorted, “Can you not talk about me like I’m not here?”

Elijah laughed under his breath, confirming her suspicion. “Forgive us,” he said. Then, to Sophie, “Let her come with us. You’ve done what you needed to do to keep her safe. Now let us do the same.” A pause. “I can assure you, there’s no one stronger.”

“Us?” Hayley muttered. “Klaus is on board with this now?”

“Klaus is…” He trailed, hesitating. “…more open than before. We can discuss this matter further once you’ve had some proper rest.”

“She can’t leave the Quarter,” Sophie said after a moment. “You all know that, right?”

“My family has already arranged for a residence,” he informed her. “It is safely within the boundaries of the city, both to ensure the safety of the girl and her child and to maintain our proximity to Marcel, as per our agreement.”

Another few seconds of thought, and the witch must have given some sign of approval, because Hayley stepped toward the door with a heaving sigh of relief, clearly ready to leave.

“Wait,” Elijah said, stopping her. “There’s a chill out there.” Fabric settled over the woman’s shoulders. “This should fit well enough for now. I’m sure Klaus will be more than willing to buy you whatever clothes you require once we get settled in.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, shoving her arms through the sleeves. “I guess chivalry’s not dead after all—just really damn late to the party.”

“Hmm,” he intoned, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “Not quite.”

“If Klaus betrays us,” Sophie said before they could leave, “Hayley will die. So will that baby. You have my word on that.”

“Then I will give you _my_ word.” Elijah moved closer to the witch as his voice dropped dangerously. “We will be your partners—we will end Marcel’s reign in the Quarter and free your people, whatever the cost may be.”

A second, the smallest breath of quiet, and his tone dropped further until it was almost like listening to distant thunder; the sound of impending doom, a hurricane in the making.

“But know this,” he added. “If anything _whatsoever_ happens to that girl or her unborn child—or anyone in my family, for that matter—at any point, and it comes to light that you or any of your people were in any way responsible…”

A pause, and Elena was sure his expression was as dark as it had been on the day that she met him—an impenetrable mask of indifference with an undercurrent of murderous intent. She had never seen him quite like that again, not any time since, but it wasn’t exactly an expression she was likely to forget.

“If anything happens, you needn’t fear Marcel, nor Klaus, nor anyone on this Earth more than you will need to fear me. Rest assured, I do not tolerate threats to my family.”

And then, just like that, he stepped back and away, moving toward Hayley to guide her outside.

“Goodbye,” he called out behind them, almost cheery. “We’ll be meeting again soon.”

Elena straightened from her stance leaning against the gate, stepping away as the two appeared in her sights. Hayley was watching the ground, taking care not to trip over the loose stones, but Elijah’s gaze clashed with Elena’s the second she moved.

“It’s probably best not to introduced Hayley to a ton of new things too fast,” she murmured. “I’ll run to the store and get the medicines she’ll need. Meet you back at the hotel in a bit.”

It wasn’t that she was suddenly getting cold feet, or that she was jealous that Elijah was paying the werewolf such close attention. It really wasn’t. If she was being honest, it had nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with the fact that they’d never exactly _met_ , and the werewolf had had extensive contact with Katherine—Elena simply wasn’t in the mood to be misidentified at the moment.

Something flashed in his eyes, hesitance mixed with confusion mixed with something like reprimand, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with understanding and assurance as he nodded in agreement.

“Be careful,” Elijah said softly. Hayley might have heard if she wasn’t so distracted. “Klaus did raise Marcel.”

 _And I’m guessing he got some bitterness passed down,_ she thought, nodding back. When Hayley glanced up a second later, brow crinkling as she saw a shadow in the corner of her eye, the only thing left of the Doppelgänger’s presence was the soft scent of her perfume on the breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I'm late again (I know, broken record, but I mean it)--I've had a lot of stuff going on mental-wise and all and...yeah. getting this chapter ready to post took longer than I would have liked, especially because I added it last minute before I was supposed to post last week, and then it took another week to proof so--I mean, it was just a lot and I know I'm the worst lol
> 
> Anyway! Hope you guys like the new chapter! Happy reading!


	28. Twenty-Third Largest City in the Country, and We’re Still Stuck with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I will always protect you. And your child. No matter what. You have my word on that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Hayley Marshall, Rebekah Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes, Klaus Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, Look Klaroline Might Not Be My Number One But It’s Still There and I Still Love It, Introductions, Hayley and Elena Reconcile, Look It’s the 21st Century Women Have Rights

There were problems with the house on Thursday, forcing them to stay at the hotel another night.

Not that it was that big of a deal, really. Instead of moving into a more permanent residence as they had originally planned, most of Thursday and into Thursday night was spent almost exactly as Wednesday night had been: sleeping in the room (Hayley), relaxing by the pool (Rebekah and Caroline), internally fretting over issues they would never bring up to anyone else (Elena), and planning a hostile takeover of the city (Elijah and Klaus).

Early Friday morning, they packed up and checked out before most of them, except for Klaus, headed to the outskirts of the city. Elijah introduced the ladies to what he and Klaus called _the Plantation_ —though Rebekah insisted it wouldn’t be long before someone labeled it as the new Mikaelson mansion—an old estate that used to be owned by the governor several centuries ago. It was now officially owned by Elijah and set to be their new “home base”, so to speak.

Meanwhile, Elijah sent his little brother off to make peace with Marcel using the groundwork he had laid out days before. Marcel knew that Klaus’ blood would heal his friend, and if the hybrid offered that blood willingly, all would be well between the two.

As it edged closer to the afternoon, Klaus was still nowhere to be found. He hadn’t answered his phone, either. Even Caroline had tried calling him when he’d been gone more than three hours with no contact; the completely affronted look on her face when it went to voicemail would have been highly entertaining any other day—as it was, Elena could only shake her head in concern, wondering where he was.

While Mr. Original Hybrid was out doing who knew what with his adopted son, the others were hard at work making their new house into a real home.

Caroline and Rebekah were in the driveway, unloading the rest of their luggage. Everyone could hear their lighthearted bickering from all corners of the house. (It wasn’t that lighthearted.)

Elijah was working on the house itself. Getting appliances hooked up, making sure the windows and doors worked properly, and checking the water pipes and insulation—all the important stuff.

Elena had started off helping him, not afraid to get her hands dirty with a little bit of home maintenance after living with Jeremy and Jenna (both of whom were hopeless with tools). Once they encountered several spider nests in the basement and what could only be described as a _sea_ of bats in the attic, however, she called forfeit and went off to find something else to do. Her partner might have laughed at her, and that in and of itself was embarrassing, but she absolutely could _not_ deal with spiders and bats, as ironic as that was.

Instead, the Doppelgänger moved downstairs to the ground floor to help Hayley. The werewolf had insisted on helping in some way, but given her condition carrying his brother’s child, Elijah had been hesitant to let her do too much. He had vetoed every suggestion until finally giving in and letting her uncover the furniture.

Though there was a fair amount of more modern fixtures, most of it was centuries old and covered with heavy canvas tarps to protect it from dust and weather and such. By the time Elena found her, Hayley had only just finished the first sitting room and was moving to the next.

“Hey, Hayley,” she greeted from the entry. The werewolf glanced up, frowning and stepping back when she saw her. Elena’s face fell slightly, but she powered through: “I don’t think we’ve really been introduced. I’m—”

“Elena,” the woman finished with a nod. She relaxed. “I figured. Hoped, really, I guess. Better than Katherine.” She shrugged. “She told me about you, you know. Others did, too, but—she talked about you all the time. She hates you. But I guess you probably know that by now.”

“Oh.” Elena’s shoulders sagged a bit; she shuffled her feet. “Right.”

Hayley tilted her head. “I honestly didn’t even know you were here until you got in the car this morning.” She huffed a laugh. “Then again, I’ve been pretty out of it the last couple days.” A pause, and then she asked blandly, “Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend in Mystic Falls?”

She shook her head. “Damon and I broke up after the whole humanity thing a couple months ago. You were already out of town.”

“Oh,” the werewolf said, soft and sheepish. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s—honestly, it’s fine. I forgave him for that. He was just trying to help, but—like, have you ever been compelled?” Elena scoffed and shook her head. “Right. Of course you haven’t. You’re a werewolf.”

Hayley shrugged. “I might not know the feeling, but I know how it works.” A pause. “Vampires can’t compel other vampires, though.”

“Damon didn’t compel me, exactly, but that was kind of what it was like.” She shrugged. “It’s as close as I can think to describe it, at least. We had this… connection. I pretty much had to do whatever he wanted. Whatever he said.” A sigh. “While it was happening, I was fine. Happy. But once I came out of it, after shutting off my humanity and turning it back on… I knew we wouldn’t work out. _Couldn’t_ work out. Not really, not after he made me do those things. Things that just—weren’t me.” She shivered. “I wasn’t myself.”

The young werewolf was quiet for a moment, picking absently at the canvas in front of her. “That sucks,” she said finally. “I wish there was some better way to say that, but…” She tsked. “It just plain sucks—the universe is messed up. I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thanks,” Elena murmured. She shook herself slightly, breaking out of the memory. “Anyway, Elijah was the one that helped pull me back from that no-humanity zone. He even let me stay with him while I was trying to figure out if I would ever be able to trust my friends again.” She took a deep breath. “The last month was… hard on me, but Elijah was always there to help me through it. Rebekah was, too, somewhat, but it was different with Elijah. We became better friends, and then… well, we’re together now. When he decided to move down here, help you and Klaus and the baby, I decided to come with. Not just for him, but for you. And Rebekah, who’s one of my best friends.” She smiled. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt to be here, just in case you needed a little extra help.”

“You… want to help me?”

She nodded. “Of course. Whatever happened between us and our friends before, you deserve the chance to be a mom. If you want—I’m pro-choice.”

Hayley blinked. “I—I didn’t even think about that,” she admitted.

“You still have time.” Elena paused, moving across the room to start pulling canvases off the furniture. Her lips pursed slightly, and she changed the subject: “About Katherine—I know that you knew her first, and she’s… Katherine, but, uh—”

“Your ancestor is kind of a bitch,” Hayley said bluntly, torn from her thoughts. “No offense.”

The vampire’s laugh came out shaky and strained. “Try being her Doppelgänger.” She shook her head. “Just—don’t believe everything she told you about me, okay? You’re right, she hates me, but… a lot of it was about stuff I couldn’t even control. Even before the sire bond and stuff, she was kind of out to get me.”

There was another, longer pause as Elena continued to move across the room, lifting sheets as she went and folding them over her arm. After a minute, she turned, glancing over shyly.

“Listen, I…” She stuttered, unsure. “I know we were… kind of on opposite sides before, but I really hope we can be friends. Eventually. Caroline is trying, too, you know. We really do just want to help you.”

Hayley scoffed. “As if. Between Tyler and Shane and Silas and whatever else—tch. Caroline must totally hate me by now.”

Elena shrugged. “She was mad. And hurt. And she gets like that sometimes. But most of that was because of the stuff with Tyler, and they broke up, so—she’s trying to move on, you know. Trying to let it go.”

“And you?” She crossed her arms, chin tilted up defiantly. “You’d forgive me, just like that? I’m part of the reason your brother is dead, not to mention I’m pretty sure I heard something about how defensive you are of your friends. Why would you want to help me?”

The Doppelgänger stiffened slightly. “I told you why,” she said, voice tight. “If you want to be a mother to this baby, you should get that chance. And Elijah is my…”

She swallowed thickly. What word could possibly come close to describing her connection to the Original Vampire? Boyfriend and S.O. both sounded so childish, while suitor implied that she was also interested in others as well as him. Lover wasn’t true at this stage; husband was closer but still inaccurate. And lastly, there was partner, which, as close as it came to what they shared, wasn’t quite there—it implied an equality between them that she wasn’t sure existed, not with the difference in age and status.

“I’m with Elijah,” she corrected after a moment, giving up and simply rewording herself. “As for the other stuff…” She shook her head. “You were manipulated,” she said softly. “By Katherine and Shane and who knows who else. Obviously, I know how that feels. I don’t blame you for… for what Katherine did to—to Jeremy.” She swallowed again, wincing. It still hurt so much. “Besides that, my friends can take care of themselves; just because I’d die for them in a heartbeat doesn’t mean I have the right to make decisions for them or hold grudges in their place.”

Hayley’s mouth popped open, but she seemed at a loss for words.

Elena turned away, back to the canvas she was working on. “I guess what I’m trying to say is: Yes. I forgive you, Hayley. Just like that.” A scoff. “I wouldn’t be trying to help you if I hadn’t forgiven you.” She smiled gently. “I even went out and bought some medicine for you. Stuff that should make your pregnancy go smoother, if you want to go through with it. Just stuff that I know helps—my dad was a doctor, you know. I learned a few things.”

They worked in silence for a while, moving from room to room. Vaguely, she heard Elijah call out to tell them everything was done, followed by footsteps on the stairs as he presumably went to get cleaned up a bit. There was a faint whistling of water in the pipes.

A few minutes later, as Hayley uncovered a crib, she coughed, choking on the dust. She’d only coughed a few times, so far, which was a good sign, but the room they were in now was a little worse than many of the others; it looked like it had remained mostly untouched through the last century, even being left alone by the cleaning crew.

Elijah appeared in the threshold, tilting his head in concern as the woman coughed and choked. “Are you alright?”

The werewolf just smiled and continued yanking on the canvas. She’d been going slower as they moved through the house, fatigue clearly weighing on her. Elena was ready to send her away to rest after this room; she could easily finish the rest by herself.

“Just dust,” Hayley replied. “This place is pretty ancient.”

“Hmm. It should serve our purposes, at least,” he mused. He stepped down from the entry, automatically moving to the other side of the room, where Elena was just uncovering a rocking chair.

“As a sanctuary?” the vampire said, almost teasing, as if she knew what he was going to say. “An oasis to escape to when things get crazy in the Quarter.”

Elijah smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Indeed.” His smile widened as he leaned slightly to the side to whisper in her ear, “The bats are gone. You’re perfectly safe.”

“My hero,” Elena retorted, nudging him sharply with her shoulder as a warning. Her smile was genuine. “So glad I don’t have to worry about being attacked in my sleep.” She kissed him back, a soft brush of lips against his cheek, before moving on to the next cover.

Elijah watched the vampire for a moment. Off to the side, in the corner of his eye, he saw Hayley look down in discomfort; he cleared his throat and moved to her side.

“This house is as good as any for keeping you safe from the witches and away from Marcel. Right now,” he said when she looked up at him, “you are the most important person in this family.” His gaze was soft. “You need a good home.”

Elijah moved to help her with the canvas as Elena tackled the rest of the furniture. The young Doppelgänger had four tarps draped over her arm before Hayley gave a strangled huff and let the Original take it himself. Elena couldn’t help her grin as she set the rest of the covers to the side.

“How are you feeling about this, by the way?” she asked, standing in front of Hayley and inclining her head to the crib between them. “I know I said it’s your choice, and it really is, but what are you thinking?”

The woman raised a brow. “About having a miracle baby with a psychotic one-night stand?” she retorted. “Or having my life tied to an equally psychotic witch?”

Elijah shook his head. “About being a mother,” he corrected. “How do you feel about becoming a mother?”

Hayley looked stunned for a moment, mouth opening and closing. Finally, she sighed and said, “I… I was abandoned when I was a baby.” Her mouth twisted, sad. “My adoptive parents kicked me out the second I turned into a wolf. That’s the whole reason I came down here, to New Orleans, you know—I wanted to find information on my family.” She shrugged. “But… I guess I don’t really know how I feel about being a mother. I never really had a good one, so what do I even have to compare it to?”

Elijah glanced down at the baby bed for a moment, running a hand over the wood banister absently as he thought. Elena watched with a small smile as he seemed to come to a decision.

“Elena is right,” he said finally, looking up and over at Hayley insistently. “It is entirely your choice as to whether or not you have this child. If you choose not to, I will do what I can to ensure that Niklaus respects your decision.”

The werewolf was quiet for a long minute. Her hand covered her stomach as her brow crinkled. Elena wondered what she was thinking about before she caught the movement of her fingers.

 _Tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap._ She was counting the baby’s heartbeats.

Hayley breathed deeply and exhaled in a big gust. “I can’t,” she murmured. “I can’t let anything happen to… it. Them.” She glanced up at them, looking almost nervous. “This is my baby, too.”

Elijah’s shoulders shifted, just slightly. Elena was watching him closely, and even she barely caught it. The relief in his eyes, however, was unmistakable. She doubted even Hayley, unfamiliar as she was with the eldest living Original, could have missed it.

If Elena was a poetic person, she might have said it was like watching a sunrise.

“In that case,” he said gently, “you should know that I will always protect you. And your child. No matter what.” His eyes flickered briefly to the vampire at his side, smile twitching, before he added, “You have my word on that. Whether or not Klaus chooses to care for this child as he should, you and he or she are a part of this family now, and nothing bad will happen to you if I can help it.”

Elena grinned and looked at Hayley, nodding encouragingly. “You can count on Elijah,” she informed her cheerily. “And I swear I’m not just saying that. He really is the most honorable of the Mikaelsons. If he says he’ll protect you, you can trust him.”

“Ah, yes,” Klaus chimed in with that sardonic lilt to his tone, appearing as if from thin air to lean against the threshold. “The noble Elijah always keeps his word. Unless you break yours, of course—then all bets are off. Isn’t that right, love?”

Elena rolled her eyes as Elijah sighed, all three turning to look at the hybrid with various expressions of irritation.

“Is it done?” Elijah asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” the hybrid said cheerily. “Your underhanded deal worked out quite well. Marcel, devastated by the approaching demise of his friend and favorite son, was only too happy to accept my blood as well as my _heartfelt_ apologies.” He shrugged, casual as could be, and smirked. “His man, Thierry, yet lives, and I remain a welcome guest in the French Quarter for the time being.”

Klaus stepped away from the threshold, his light grin quickly turning into a scowl.

“My only concern now is this coven of impudent witches. Why have they brought us here?”

“I believe them to be honorable,” Elijah said. “They did release Hayley to me—or us, as it were. They had no reason to.”

“Us?” Hayley muttered.

Elena shrugged. “I needed to get out of the hotel,” she explained. “Too much fighting. And besides, we figured it’d be good for Elijah to introduce me to the witches early.” She smiled slightly, raising a brow. “Where did you think that jacket came from?”

She blinked in surprise, glancing down at the garment in question—she hadn’t had anything else to wear, after all, and they hadn’t gone shopping yet—but she couldn’t seem to conjure a response to that.

Klaus crossed his arms as he stood in front of his brother. “You truly believe they have nothing to hide? That they’ve revealed their entire plan to us?”

“They are secretive,” Elijah mused, “but they seem righteous. I believe that, at least.”

Elena snorted, drawing their attention. She shared a look with Hayley as they both crossed their arms. If the Originals didn’t know better, they might have thought the two were long-lost sisters.

“That makes one of us,” Elena said with a raised brow. Both men sent her a questioning look, and she rolled her eyes. “They kidnapped a pregnant woman and linked her to one of them on the off chance it would force one of the most powerful beings on Earth to help them.” She glared pointedly at Klaus when he started to preen. “That strikes you as _normal_? _Sane_?” She shook her head with a _tsk_. “There’s no way this is over something as simple as wanting vampires out of the Quarter. Obviously, they have an agenda we’re not seeing or hearing about. Something made them desperate enough to bring the Originals back to town after a century.”

Caroline appeared behind Klaus, leaning against the doorway as he had just moments before. “I agree with Elena,” she chirped, ignoring the hybrid’s startled expression.

He hadn’t even known she came with them, let alone seen her at the hotel; this was the first he was seeing of her since he himself arrived in the city. He looked absolutely flabbergasted. Elena discretely took out her phone at vamp-speed and snapped a picture—the device was back in her pocket before anyone other than Elijah saw it.

“What exactly are you doing here, love?” Klaus asked, eyes still wide with shock.

The blonde tilted her head, smiling innocently. “What do you mean, Klaus?” she asked, tone sugary sweet and mocking. “You’re the one that invited me to New Orleans.” She grinned. “Besides—my best friend is here, and how could I resist her when she asked me to come?”

“Your best—” He spun around to raise an eyebrow at his former Doppelgänger. “Elena.”

She rocked back on her heels, grinning with wide, guileless eyes. “We just want to help, Klaus.”

The hybrid growled, stepping forward, but Caroline moved to his side in an instant, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. She met his glare head-on until he huffed and looked away, and then she turned to his brother.

“Anyway,” she continued, adding to their previous conversation as if the interlude had never occurred. “Something’s not right with these witches.”

Elijah’s mouth twitched slightly, admiring her character. He could see why she and Elena were friends, as well as why she and Klaus were so drawn to each other—she was his equal in attitude if nothing else.

“You said it yourself—they don’t want Marcel dead for some God-awful reason. It’s not because they don’t want Klaus mad, because they obviously couldn’t care less, so what other reason is there to keep him alive? There are easier ways to take over a city, chief of which is to kill the competition and just _take it_.”

“They haven’t been entirely forthcoming,” the elder Original agreed, a tad reluctant. “Marcel obviously has something that they need. The question is: What could he have that makes them so desperate?”

“I talked to Bonnie before we left,” Elena said suddenly. She shrugged when they all raised a brow at her in surprise. “I didn’t tell her anything,” she defended. “I just asked her a couple of questions—like what could terrify an entire city of the most powerful witches in the world into submission? What could possibly have the ability to detect when anyone is using magic in any part of the twenty-third largest city in the country?”

“I’d ask why and how you know that specific statistic,” Rebekah mused as she rounded the corner, “but I’m more interested in knowing what her answer was.”

“You would be surprised what you’re forced to learn in sixth-grade Social Studies class nowadays,” she said, tone bland. “I know I was. As for the answer…” The vampire shrugged casually, smirking. “It took some digging, but Bonnie’s been going through a lot of old grimoires recently, so she had a basic idea of what we were looking for. We went through some of the Archives, too, what little are left, and we could only find one thing that fit.”

She sighed, bracing for the fallout of her next words. It wasn’t going to go over well.

“You can’t charm a talisman to do that,” she said slowly. “The only thing that could possibly have that much power… is another witch. A really, _really_ powerful witch.”

She paused, locking eyes with Elijah and then with Klaus.

The elder’s expression was blank as he processed the news. There was something almost stiff about his posture; Elena worried he was hiding some kind of fury.

Meanwhile, the hybrid clenched his fists in rage and frustration, brow wrinkling as he bared his teeth. Veins wriggled beneath gold-tinted eyes for a split second.

“And your little business partner, _Marcellus_ —he has her in his back pocket.”


	29. Yeah, That's What I Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their arrival seemed to surprise him, enough that he turned just slightly, and then she saw it. Saw him.
> 
> And she saw red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Elijah Mikaelson, Hayley Marshall, Rebekah Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes, Klaus Mikaelson, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, IMPORTANT CONTEXT BECAUSE I’M SNEAKY, Damn I Do Love Klaroline and Elejah, Hey I Brought Lucy Back for a Hot Second, Introductions, Klaus Being Klaus, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, Elena Saves Elijah for Once (Kinda), Oooh More Symptoms, Protective Elijah and Rebekah and Caroline and Hayley, History of Daggers??? Kinda??, Suspicious (But Confused) Elijah and Rebekah, Elejah Being Cute

Hours later, Caroline was lounging across Elena’s bed while the brunette unpacked her singular piece of luggage. She was trying to convince her that she needed to splurge on a completely new wardrobe, and Elena was working on bartering down to just a dresser or two of outfits.

As they bickered, they could hear the others moving around downstairs, scattered across the lower levels as they worked on their various tasks. Hayley was listing groceries and various necessities to Rebekah in the dining room. Klaus was moving things in the basement (they tried not to think about what those things were). Elijah was sorting books and artifacts in his study.

There was a knock on the front door; all motion and conversation paused at the noise. Klaus was the first to move, steps heavy on the stairs as he went to answer the door.

“I’m guessing that’s probably the witch,” Caroline muttered.

Elena raised a brow. “What witch? Marcel’s witch?”

“No. One of Klaus’.” The blonde propped herself up on her elbows with a huff. “It’s like a test,” she explained. “Klaus told me about it earlier, when you and Elijah were out _touring the grounds_.” She waggled her brow suggestively and only just managed to catch the pillow that flew at her head as she giggled.

“Caroline!”

“Fine,” she sighed, pouting. “You’re no fun.” Flopping back down, she hugged the pillow to her chest almost defensively. “Anyway, Klaus flew in one of his witchy friends from across the country or out of Europe or something, to see if Marcel knows when non-ancestral magic is used. Could be anything, I guess—traditional magic, sacrificial, representational… I don’t know. Anything but Ancestral. Maybe even Spirit Magic—that’s technically not the Ancestors, right?”

“I doubt it.” Elena sighed. “What if Marcel does find out?” She frowned. “How’s Klaus gonna explain that?”

Caroline shrugged. “Guess he’ll have to figure something out.” She shook her head. “It’s just a privacy spell, anyway—nothing that would help us with taking him down or anything. Even if Marcel finds out, there are tons of ways to explain it away.”

Before Elena could scold her for the sly look in her eyes or the suggestive lilt to her voice, there was another noise downstairs, and Klaus finally opened the door and greeted his guest.

“Ah, finally. Hello, love. Long time no see.”

“Not _that_ long, honey,” a slightly sardonic voice returned.

It sounded vaguely familiar, but neither of them could quite place it. They kept listening as the hybrid and the witch moved further into the house; the two were chatting amicably, discussing what Klaus wanted done and the spellwork necessary to put the charms in place.

“It’s an advanced spell,” the woman mused. “Most privacy spells require the consistent burning of sage by a witch, you know.”

“But there is another way.”

A scoff. “There are always other ways, sweetheart—you know that. And lucky for you, a Bennett witch always has a backup spell.”

With a brief look exchanged between them, Elena and Caroline moved in the space of a blink to stand in the sitting room. Both Klaus and his visitor spun on their heels at the _whoosh_.

“Oh, my God,” the blonde blurted. “ _Lucy_?”

The witch smirked. “Caroline,” she drawled, cocking a hip. “Been a while.”

Elena’s brow rose. “ _This_ is Lucy?” she asked, looking between them. She was younger than she’d expected her to be, though that could’ve been from herbs. Her friend nodded, and she stepped toward the witch with a soft, nervous smile, holding out a hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” she greeted. “I’m Elena.”

Lucy gave an easy grin in return as she shook her hand. There was a small beat where she paused, almost frozen, and looked down at the ring on the vampire’s finger. Her brow wrinkled, grip tightening and eyes narrowing as her gaze flickered back up to meet Elena’s again. It only lasted a second, a heartbeat, before she shook her head and released her hand with a bright smile. The younger woman put it off as her imagination.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said. Then, smirking, “You’re much prettier than your grandma.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” She laughed. “This is crazy! I know Bonnie will be sorry she missed you. She’s been hoping to run into you again since last year—especially with everything going on the last few months back home. Ancestors and all.”

Before Lucy could respond, Klaus cleared his throat. He leaned against the entry and crossed his arms with a pointed look at the three women.

“What’s this, then?” he drawled blandly. “I hadn’t realized you met any other Bennett witches.”

“We didn’t exactly know Lucy was friends with an Original when we met her, either,” the Doppelgänger snarked. “You could’ve said something, too, you know.”

“And technically,” Caroline explained with a smirk, “we didn’t meet her ourselves. Bonnie did. Elena was outside getting stabbed by a phantom the whole time, and I really only caught bits and pieces of Bonnie’s conversation with her mysterious cousin. Other than that, nothing happened.”

“The question remains…”

“I’d be more than willing to explain how we came to know each other,” the witch interjected, “but if I’m gonna do this spell today, it’s gotta be in the next hour. Once the Sun passes its apex, the spell can’t be done.”

The hybrid frowned for a moment before ultimately nodding and waving her further into the house. As she made her way through the main level of the house, touching her palm to various walls and mumbling under her breath, Klaus shifted to catch Caroline’s eye behind her back.

The two blondes seemed to be having a silent argument, which was honestly just strange—to Elena, at least. Neither were known for their silence.

The Doppelgänger felt a soft touch on her wrist and turned slightly, a smile already forming. “Hey,” she said softly, shifting to take his hand. “All set?”

“Everything seems to be in order,” Elijah mused. “A bit outdated, but that’s to be expected.”

She hummed, nodding in agreement. “After a couple hundred years?” she teased. “I’d say so.”

Before he could retort, Caroline scoffed quietly, drawing their attention. She looked at their hands pointedly, raising a brow and smiling softly.

“Could you two get any cuter?” she muttered, crossing her arms. “You haven’t even been together forty-eight hours and you’re already practically glued together.”

Elijah shifted, not exactly uncomfortable, but Elena just rolled her eyes.

“Jealous, Care?” she teased, wiggling the fingers of her free hand. “You can hold my other hand if you want. It’s still free.”

“I think your boyfriend might take offense.” The blonde grinned. “But thanks anyway, babe.”

Elijah laughed under his breath and tugged Elena gently until he could wrap an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her forehead softly, smiling against her skin, and she giggle when she saw his eyes narrow in her friend’s direction.

As he went to say something to the blonde, however, his brother interrupted.

“Elijah,” he called, already turning on his heel to head out of the room. “I’d like a moment, if you don’t mind.”

Elena watched as the elder’s wry grin immediately twisted into an almost pained grimace. She smirked, squeezing his hand gently; he glanced at her, questioning, but she shook her head.

“Go.” Leaning up briefly, she pressed her lips to his cheek, just above his jaw. “See what he wants. I think I’m gonna go find Rebekah and see if she wants any help with the shopping.”

Elijah sighed and kissed her cheek softly. “Very well. Tell her we need new curtains. She should know what I mean.” With a brief peck to her mouth, he moved away, toward the door.

The second the two brothers had disappeared into Klaus’ study, Caroline scoffed again; this time, it was coupled with an exaggerated eyeroll.

“See?” she retorted lightly. “You two are way too cute for a two-day relationship.”

“Shush, Care,” Elena scolded. “You know why.”

The blonde grinned. “I know. Doesn’t make it not true.”

The Doppelgänger gave up, throwing her hands in the air with a huff. “Whatever.” She turned. “I need to find Bekah. You should let them know when Lucy’s done with the spellwork.”

“Avoidance is as good as admittance!”

Elena ignored her as she ventured across the house to the dining room; she could still hear Rebekah and Hayley in there, debating over various items on the shopping list. As she rounded the corner to stand in the entry, however, mouth opening around a greeting, her knees buckled.

There was a pain in her chest, like getting a roundhouse kick to the sternum. She could barely breathe around it.

A _whoosh_ of air reached her ears in the split second before Rebekah appeared at her side. The Original grabbed her gently by the throat, lifting her chin with her thumb and forefinger to look her in the eye.

“Elena,” she said. Then, louder, “Elena.” A light shake. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick again?”

“Again?” Hayley demanded, watching them warily. She crossed her arms over her stomach, protective. “This has happened before?”

Rebekah shot a glare in her direction, fuming. Then she took a deep breath, eyes closing for a beat as she remembered herself, and grit out, “She’s never been like this before, but she got sick the other night for no reason. I haven’t figured out what’s wrong with her, but it can’t be contagious, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Elena choked on her words, unable to speak, either to reassure her friend or explain her problem. It _hurt_. It wasn’t exactly a sharp pain, but it was still excruciating; it felt like a car was sitting on her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs and pressing her into the ground.

Rebekah smoothed a hand over her forehead, brow scrunched in concern. “You’re burning up,” she murmured. “Vampires don’t get sick… not unless a witch hexed you. Did the Bennett witch do it? I swear, if Nik brought someone here that hurt you—”

Elena managed to shake her head, but that made the pain worse. There were spots crowding her vision, not quite blacking it out—rather, it almost seemed like several visions were layered over each other, blocking each other out. She forced air into her lungs, enough to cough out one word. Three syllables. One name.

“Elijah.”

The blonde’s hand gripped her arm, pulling her up to stand a tad too roughly. She glanced to the other woman hovering close by, chin jerking in her direction as she snapped, “Hayley. Get Elena to the sitting room. I’ll get Elijah and meet you there.”

Before she could trade her off, Elena grasped the collar of Rebekah’s jacket and brought their faces within inches of each other. She hardened her expression, jaw tight against the pain and eyes bright with a glare.

“Take me,” she growled through a snarl. Veins appeared under her skin, curling over the flushed skin of her cheeks as her irises flashed red with fury. “Take me to Klaus.”

“Are you out of your mind?” the Original demanded. “What do you think you’re going to do? Take on the big bad hybrid all by yourself—in this condition? I don’t think—”

“Rebekah. _Now_.”

A beat later, her vision spun with the sudden change of scenery. Marble and granite and steel had been transformed into wood and iron and parchment. The smell of bleach and sawdust had shifted into polish and leather. But none of that really registered.

The first thing she really processed was the back of Klaus’ head and the tense set of his shoulders and back. Then she saw his arm, his wrist twisted at a strange angle. Their arrival seemed to surprise him, enough that he turned just slightly, and then she saw it. Saw _him_.

And she saw red.

Before Rebekah could think to hold her back, Elena sped forward, knocking Klaus off his feet and away from his rapidly desiccating brother. He slid across the floor, too stunned to stop his fall, but he was back up before his body made it ten feet away.

Elena was on him again the second he took a step forward, slamming him against the wall. Her knee landed a hard blow to his gut as she clawed at him, a vicious snarl curling her lips; she was two seconds away from baring her fangs and hissing.

“Stay away from him!” she screamed, punching him in the face. He went sprawling across the floor again, and she knelt over him, landing another blow. “How could you do this? _Again_?”

As she moved to punch him again, he caught her wrist. Then she was the one pinned to the wall, the hybrid’s fangs inches from her face.

“I am doing what needs to be done,” he growled. “Elijah being awake only serves as a tool for Marcel to use against me. He’s better off—”

“What?” Elena pushed against him, forcing him back. “Better off rotting in a box for months? Years? _Centuries_?”

Another blow landed to his jaw, snapping it in two with an audible _crack_ that made even Rebekah wince. Just behind her, Hayley rounded the corner to push the door open.

“He gave you his word that he would stand by you!” Elena raged, glowering at Klaus. “Save your child, help you with Marcel and taking back the city. And this is how you repay him?”

Klaus grunted softly as he pushed his jaw back into place. It healed in barely two seconds, and his glare was potent when he turned back to the furious girl in front of him.

“I do not doubt that Elijah would do whatever it may take to help his family.” His voice was low and dangerous—threatening—and it made Elena’s blood _boil_. “Help _anyone_ he cares for. And I am not the only one who knows that. Marcel will remember that just as well as any of us, and _that_ is the issue here. He could easily use that knowledge against me—against this family. I cannot allow that. My family cannot be risked in that way.”

“Do you have any idea how _stupid_ that sounds? You act like your family is the most important thing to you, that you do what you do to protect them or whatever, but is that the truth, or just something you tell yourself to sleep at night?” She scoffed, her fists clenched at her sides, and fought the urge to throttle him again. “Besides, even if Marcel tried to use it against you or Elijah or any of us—why does it even matter? I mean, seriously. So what?”

“So what?” Klaus tsked, almost amused. “You sound just like my brother. You’re both naïve if you think I’d allow my enemies any access to my vulnerabilities.”

“Naïve?” She shook her head. “You stupid son of a—it’s called optimism. _Hope_. We choose to make deals, lasting agreements, and hope for the best. All you’ve ever believed in was the worst, as if nothing good could ever happen to you!” She threw up her arms in an exasperated, exaggerated movement. “Guess what, Klaus! Something good is happening _right now_. This baby is _good_ , reconnecting with your _son_ is _good_ —how much longer are you gonna keep pushing happiness away? How much longer _can_ you do it before you’re completely alone and miserable for the rest of eternity?”

“Marcel is _not_ my family,” he hissed. “He stole this city in the wake of my departure—it is not his to rule! It was always supposed to be mine!”

“You don’t get it.” Elena shook her head. “You _left_ , Klaus. You and Rebekah and Elijah were his family, the only family he ever really had, and you _left him_ —didn’t even bother to come back for him for almost a hundred years, just assumed he was dead and moved on with your lives.” She scoffed. “You’d think, with the parents you all had, you’d understand why he’s so mad, so defensive of his title.”

“Those daggers work on lesser vampires, too,” the hybrid growled, stepping closer until they were nearly toe-to-toe. “If you had any sense whatsoever, you would take Caroline and scurry back to Mystic Falls, where you should have stayed in the first place. Otherwise, I’ll arrange for a coffin for you, as well—right next to Elijah.”

“This is my family, too, Klaus,” she spat. “I might not be yours, and I might not be part of _always and forever_ , but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I’m here for my family.” Her glare was potent. “Whether you want to accept it or not, I’m with Elijah, Rebekah is one of my best friends, and _I’m not going anywhere_. Neither is Caroline.”

“Neither of you belong here,” he snapped. “Not in this house, and not in this city. As I’ve said before, _you are not family_.”

“They have as much stake in this family as you or I,” Rebekah interjected. “Elena and Elijah are in love, and Caroline is her sister, not to mention how much she cares for you.” She tilted her chin up slightly until she was practically looking down her nose at him. “Besides. Those decisions have always been up to Elijah, and he is the only one who has stood by you through the centuries.” She stepped up beside Elena, putting a supportive hand on her shoulder. “ _He’s_ the one who fought so hard for your redemption. Yet here you stand, once again betraying him for your own selfish gain.”

Off to the side, Hayley knelt beside the greying body. With one swift, jerking movement, the dagger was freed from Elijah’s chest and brandished in front of her like a sword. Klaus immediately whipped around on his heel to eye her warily.

“Tch,” he scoffed, amused but irritated. “That dagger doesn’t work on me, love. You know that.”

“Maybe not,” she said, voice shaking slightly. “But it doesn’t belong in Elijah, and I’d be willing to bet that stabbing you with it would still hurt at least a little bit.” Her feet stepped carefully backward; it was a rounded pattern, as if to circle him in a wrestling ring. “Besides,” she mused with a small smirk, “I got your attention, didn’t I?”

His spine straightened as he blinked, almost confused. “My attent—”

 _Snap_. Klaus’ body dropped to the ground, lifeless for the moment as his neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Elena reflexively brushed her shaking hands off on her jeans as she fell to her knees beside Elijah. Her breath shuddered, voice quivering as she muttered, “He was only out for a minute, he should be waking up by now.”

“It would go faster with a bit of blood,” Rebekah said softly, stepping around them with a sigh. “I’m sure we have some in the kitchen—it’s always stocked first when Nik moves.”

“Don’t bother.” Elena lifted her hand to her lips, fangs descending. There was a soft _crunch_ as she bit down.

The blonde caught her wrist in a bruising hold, jerking her away with a swift, rough tug just as she went to lower the bloody limb to his lips. “Are you out of your mind?” she asked her for a second time. She seemed almost panicked; Elena had never seen her scared before, but there was something about the light in her eyes that led her to think she was hiding some form of terrified expression. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

Elena’s glare was fierce. “I’m waking up Elijah,” she spat, tone clipped.

“Here.” Hayley appeared at her side and handed her a blood bag. “It only took a second.”

Elena sighed and shook her head, opening the little tube and pressing it to Elijah’s cold lips. “Thank you, Hayley.” The man twitched beneath her hand slightly, slowly waking from his deep sleep. She ran her fingers through his hair with gentle strokes and murmured to him soothingly, “Come on, ‘Lijah. Wake up. That’s it.”

Rebekah scoffed. “He’s not a child,” she retorted, her tone scathing. “He’s a thousand-year-old vampire—he can feed himself.”

“Shh,” Hayley hissed, nudging her. “Just let her deal.”

The blonde Original rolled her eyes but remained quiet and still.

Elena sent Hayley a grateful smile before turning back to Elijah. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sat up after a long moment. His skin rapidly returned to normal as he gulped the blood from the bag forcefully; it was barely halfway empty when he lowered it and glanced around the room.

“What an odd sight,” he drawled with a wry grin. His gaze landed pointedly on his brother’s body lying prone not far away. “Just who did that?”

“Your girlfriend,” replied Hayley and Rebekah.

Elijah’s mouth twitched slightly. How interesting, to see Elena getting along so well with his sister and the mother of his brother’s child; well enough to tease each other, in any case.

Elena glared at them, though it lacked any real heat. “It was a group effort,” she grumbled.

She cleared her throat against the burn she could feel in her chest. A different kind of dizziness was taking over now that she knew Elijah was safe.

Her voice rasped as she continued, “They distracted him, I snapped his neck.” A shrug. “Thank Hayley for actually taking the dagger out.”

“Elena was too busy beating your idiot brother into the ground,” the werewolf teased softly. “She sure packs a punch.”

“Not to mention the _thorough_ ribbing she gave him over betraying his family,” Rebekah added. She smirked and tilted her chin when Elena frowned up at her. “ _Again_ ,” she mocked.

Elijah’s dark eyes landed on each of them one by one, gratitude shining in them, before returning to the Doppelgänger directly in front of him. His gaze turned calculating as it raked over her face and body, taking in her expression and posture. Something was… off about her. Wrong.

She was stiff, her limbs shaking with exertion. There was a sheen of sweat lingering across her brow and seeping into her collar, and her breathing was heavy and labored. A speck of bright red caught his attention, bringing his gaze down to her wrist; blood dripped from her skin, tiny rivulets coating her hand and soaking into her sleeve until gravity forced it to the ground. The wound was probably self-inflicted, some attempt to wake him faster, but what concerned him more than the cut itself was how slowly it was healing—he’d been watching it for upwards of ten seconds before the skin had completely knit back together.

Elijah held out his hand, offering her the remaining blood in the bag. “Here.”

She shook her head, shifting to stand. He was already standing when she straightened and managed to catch her arm to keep her upright as she swayed.

“Elena,” he said, gentle but firm. He held back a frustrated sigh; this was looking like another Willoughby situation, all over again. “I’m fine. Better than fine. Please take the rest. You need it much more than I do—you’re clearly deprived.”

She still seemed hesitant, glancing between him and the blood. Ultimately, after a long moment, she sighed and nodded, accepting the bag. Within seconds, it was drained, and she set the empty plastic aside on the table in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hold.

“Sorry I wasn’t faster,” she muttered, sniffling slightly.

Elijah laughed softly as his arms came up to curl around her waist. He held her to him in an equally close hold; her toes barely grazed the floor. “It’s alright,” he murmured against her neck. He looked over her shoulder to talk to his sister. “How did you know? Did you hear us talking?”

Hayley shook her head. “We weren’t even paying attention,” she admitted.

Rebekah shrugged. “We wouldn’t have heard you, anyway, with the spells Klaus has been having Lucy put on the place.” She tsked. “The door was closed, blocking vampire hearing.”

His brow wrinkled. “Then how?”

“Elena,” said Hayley, crossing her arms over her stomach. “She came to us in the dining room and—she just… freaked out. Like she was hexed or something.”

“Tch,” the blonde scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“And another?” Elijah prompted. He pulled away from the woman in his arms to look into her teary eyes. “Elena, what happened?”

“I…” She swallowed thickly, glancing away. Honestly, she could hardly remember. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

“Try,” he pressed. His hand came up from her waist to caress her cheek as he smiled at her encouragingly. “Tell me, Elena. It’s alright.”

“It felt like the world shattered.” Her voice was barely a breath. “Fractured. And I did, too.” She shook her head. “It hurt so much—like getting kicked in the chest, or when I was in the car accident… I couldn’t breathe around it.”

Elena closed her eyes briefly as she forced air into her lungs. Her ears were ringing; it was giving her a headache.

“I don’t know,” she choked out, nearly sobbing. “I don’t know—that’s all I remember! I just—I knew I had to get to you, that something was _wrong_.”

“How did you know?” he asked softly. “Elena, I don’t understand.”

She shook her head again. “I don’t know. It was just… just this feeling of pain and pressure and—and then it was like I could see you, in front of me. Feel you, almost. It was horrible.”

Elijah stiffened slightly, stepping away. The hand he had on her waist fell to his side as he pulled his other from her cheek. His expression was shocked for a split second before closing off into blankness. It was almost eerie.

Elena’s eyes snapped open, wet with tears, and she sobbed. “I’m sorry,” she cried, covering her mouth. “I’m so sorry, that’s—that’s all I remember.” She grasped his jacket lightly, flinching when he looked down at her with that blank expression. “Elijah,” she whispered, voice cracking, “you have to believe me. I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

The Original was quiet for a moment, looking at his sister with a pointed gaze. The blonde raised a brow and crossed her arms. He tilted his head, but she just pursed her lips.

After a minute, he sighed and reached out, curling an arm around the crying girl’s shoulders and bringing her close again. “I believe you,” he murmured. “Shh—I believe you. It’s alright.”

Elena continued to cry into his shirt, sobs wracking her small frame. It felt like she was splitting apart, bursting open at the seams of her mind. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Shh, it’s alright.”

After a long moment, her sobs quieted, slowing down a bit. Her breath shuddered in her chest, and she felt like she could break again at any moment.

“That’s all I remember,” Elena repeated, voice still shaking. She pulled away slightly to look up at Elijah, eyes wide and scared. “Next thing I knew, I was yelling and screaming and beating the crap out of Klaus.”

“Only after demanding that I take you to him,” Rebekah added, not quite sardonic. “Call it hyperbole, but I’ve never seen a vampire look quite so demonic. You were nearly _murderous_.”

The Doppelgänger’s face flushed bright crimson with blood, but she almost immediately went pale again as she rubbed her throat. Before anyone could think to stop her, she ripped herself from Elijah’s arms and disappeared from the room in a burst, door blown wide open in her wake.

Rebekah met her brother’s eyes and tilted her head in a pointed gesture. He nodded grimly, and they sped after the girl, leaving Hayley calling after them; they came up on the vampire’s heels just as she passed over the bathroom threshold. Still moving so fast she was little more than a blur, Elena dropped to her knees on the tiled floor, skidding several feet until she was hunched over the toilet. The Originals could only watch, utterly surprised, as she began violently throwing up the contents of her stomach—blood, breakfast, more blood.

Something clenched tightly in Elijah’s chest, and the elder Original quickly knelt by Elena’s side. He ran gentle fingers through her hair, carefully pulling it away from the clammy skin of her forehead and out of her face; he gathered it up behind her head, away from her neck. His free hand rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“Shh,” he murmured, brow crinkled with worry. Her breath caught on a sob as she coughed up more blood, body shaking with the strain, and he sighed deeply. “It’s alright. Calm down.”

Elena managed to pause long enough to shove at his chest ineffectually. “Get out of here,” she rasped in protest. “I’m fine. You shouldn’t see this.”

Elijah shook his head, posture resolute against her insistent pushing. He took a cloth from the basket and started dabbing at the blood on her chin; his gaze was soft and reassuring but also sad and concerned. She kept pushing at him for another moment, again and again, making it more difficult to help.

His voice was stern and as he said, “You are not fine. Elena—let me help you. It’s alright. You don’t need to do everything on your own.”

Off to the side, Rebekah leaned against the doorway, watching them. After a moment, she met her brother’s gaze evenly behind the sick girl’s back; there was a question there, in his dark eyes. She grimaced and shook her head—this was certainly not the first time it happened, but she couldn’t possibly know how often an occurrence it was.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and she pushed something at him; memories, thoughts, images flashing between the two of them in a second.

It was all circumstantial—vague and unclear. His sister didn’t have all the information, didn’t know what was happening when she wasn’t there, and she wasn’t sure what was going on, either.

 _I could guess,_ she thought cryptically. _But it could be anything._

Elena coughed, more blood and half-digested food and bile and acid going into the toilet.

Elijah sighed again, his attention pulled back to the woman in front of him. She was cold to the touch, shaking and clammy, and her skin was drying and greying rapidly. He’d never seen anything quite like it—similar, yes, but all of those had reasons and causes that would never and could never apply to Elena, so he was at a loss as to the source of this illness. Nothing was adding up, nothing made any sense.

He wasn’t even sure if it was a vampire issue or a Doppelgänger one.

Still, there had to be something else going on here. This wasn’t happening out of the blue for no reason whatsoever—he just needed to figure it out.

“Klaus?” Caroline’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “Elena? Elena, where are you?” A huff. “Where the hell is everybody?” She rounded the threshold enough to take in the scene before Rebekah pushed her back.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” the young Original warned. “She’s not great company right now. Don’t worry, Elijah is handling it.”

“Elena is my friend,” Caroline protested, shoving at her hands. “My sister. What the hell is going on?”

Finally, Elena calmed, stomach empty. She took the glass of water Elijah handed her, gurgling and spitting before taking a long sip.

“I’m fine, Care,” she rasped, wiping her mouth with the cloth he gave her. “Just a dizzy spell.” She leveraged herself up by the toilet, forcing her knees to lock as she stood on shaky legs and flushed the mess of blood and food down the drain. “Kinda like being vervained, but way, way worse.” Elijah once again caught her when she swayed; she curled into his chest, her head on his shoulder as she looked up at him. “I should drink some blood, I guess. Or maybe a lot of blood.”

Elijah nodded, jaw tight with no small amount of concern. “Come,” he murmured. “Let me help you to the kitchen. There are plenty of blood bags in the refrigerator.”

As they stepped into the hall, Caroline was quick to take her other arm so that they supported the Doppelgänger between them. The two guided her through the house to the kitchen, settling her carefully into a chair at the island counter, while Rebekah went to drag Klaus’ body upstairs to sleep off the broken neck for an hour or two in his own room.

Lucy came into the kitchen several minutes later, looking weary but pleased, only to pause and raise a brow at the scene in front of her.

Caroline was standing beside the fridge, looking poised to open the door at a moment’s notice. Elena sat on a stool at the island, her expression tight with exhaustion as she gulped down a bag of blood with a vigor that in no way matched her generally sweet persona. Beside the young Doppelgänger’s chair stood Elijah, his hand resting on her back as he pressed a kiss into her hair—in contrast to the gentleness the Original was displaying toward the younger vampire, his free hand was clenched into a tight fist at his side, and his eyes flashed with something like defensiveness when he caught sight of the newcomer.

“Are you okay?” Lucy asked slowly, stepping toward the pale girl. She ignored the warning glare Elijah gave her. “You look… sick. Vampires don’t get sick, do they?”

“I’m fine, Lucy,” Elena rasped. “Nothing to worry about. I think fighting Klaus took a lot out of me.”

“You fought Klaus?” The witch blinked rapidly, astonished. “As in, the hybrid Klaus that lives here?” Another blink. “Wow. Who won?”

“Given that I’m the one left conscious in the end…”

Lucy pursed her lips, looking the girl over. She was so pale her skin was practically translucent. Even desiccating vampires didn’t look as terrible as the Doppelgänger did in that moment.

The witch didn’t miss the twist to Elijah’s mouth at the sound of the girl’s weak voice. She didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened as he watched her drink yet another blood bag without much change to her appearance, either; she suddenly realized there was a small stack of at least four empty blood bags sitting beside the girl’s elbow.

Lucy didn’t comment on any of that, though.

She took a few steps closer until she was only a couple of feet away, hand already reaching out as if to check the young vampire’s temperature. A strong hand caught her wrist before her fingers came close to touching the girl’s clammy skin.

“Do _not_ touch her,” Elijah growled, eyes flashing red.

In all the years she’d known the Originals, she had never seen him angry—at least, not like this.

“Elijah,” Elena whispered, accepting another blood bag from Caroline. “It’s fine.”

In seconds, the fresh bag was empty. She took another when her friend offered it, and that disappeared quickly, too. A third was opened and sipped slowly as her color returned to normal.

The pile of empty bags was about to become eight.

“No, Elena,” Elijah said, voice low. His glare did not waver from the witch in front of him, and he tightened his grip just enough to hurt. To Lucy, he said, “I think it’s about time you were on your way. Niklaus will get your payment to you when he wakes; I will ensure he does so.”

He released her, and she rubbed her wrist to get the blood circulating again, wincing slightly at the raw feeling. Her eyes cut between the two, the Original and the Doppelgänger, before widening.

 _That can’t be right,_ she thought. _It_ can’t _be. After a thousand years, an eternity of waiting—they can’t possibly be…_

Lucy’s mouth popped open as if to say something, but she almost immediately closed it again. Instead, she nodded. “Fine. I’m sorry, I was only trying to help.” She smiled, polite and almost knowing. “It was nice meeting you, Elena. You, too, Caroline, of course. Tell Bonnie I said hello when you talk to her; if she needs me, Klaus has my number.”

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, passing Rebekah on her way out. The youngest Original watched her depart with a polite nod before turning to the other three with a raised brow and crossed arms.

“Elena, are you alright?” she asked, just a bit stern.

The brunette nodded as she trashed her empty blood bags. “I’m fine now, Bekah,” she said with a soft smile. “I promise. I think whatever those spots and flashes were threw off my bloodstream or something. Made my body want to cleanse, maybe.” She shuddered before shrugging casually. “Where’s Hayley?”

Rebekah tilted her head, frowning at the subject change. “She said she was going to get something from the study.”

“I bet I know what,” Caroline sighed, pushing away from the fridge. “I’ll go help her, make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

Elena raised a brow. “You hate Hayley,” she said, skeptical. “You’ve never gotten along, and now you’re volunteering to help her with something so trivial?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t really like her, and I’m not happy about all the stuff she’s done, but we’re all living together now. Might as well start over—all that drama was overrated, anyway, and half of it was Klaus’ fault. Or Tyler’s, or Silas’.” She briefly hugged her best friend tight around the shoulders. “Feel better, ‘Lena. No more weird sicknesses from you, okay? You’re the only one that makes sense in this place, and it needs to stay that way.”

Once she had disappeared, Elena turned in her seat, looking up at Elijah. “So,” she said quietly. “Klaus said the daggers can be used on regular vampires.”

The Original frowned. “They technically can be,” he admitted. “Though not with white oak ash—that would be more… permanent.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t even make sense,” she blurted. “The daggers can’t even be _used_ on an Original _by_ another vampire without that vampire dying—how does that work?”

Rebekah was the one to respond, taking a seat across from her. “You’re wrong,” she singsonged. She pouted when Elena just raised a brow at her. “A dagger wouldn’t kill the vampire who uses it,” she explained with an eyeroll. Her mouth tilted in a smirk as her stare turned pointed. “At least, not permanently.”

“The Spirits of Nature do love their loopholes,” Elijah mused. “The daggers themselves are evidence of that.”

Elena pursed her lips, brow scrunching in confusion, before she realized. “Wait,” she muttered, almost to herself. “There was a journal… a Gilbert journal or a Hunter’s journal or something—it said something about bonds.”

“Mm-hmm,” Rebekah hummed. “There are three main categories—I would say it’s more of a Venn Diagram than a straightforward chart, but I digress.” She rested her hand on her fist and nodded for Elena to continue.

“Some are formed through life and blood,” the Doppelgänger listed, tracing patterns in the marble specks in the counter. “Others formed through love. And some formed through death.” She tilted her head in thought. “So neutralizing an Original… for a vampire, that would form a death bond, therefore also neutralizing them.”

“You always were a quick study,” Rebekah drawled. She sighed. “So you see, the daggers only neutralize the vampires who use them—and Nik wasn’t lying when he said they can be used on regular vampires, either.”

“But not with white oak ash.” Elena pursed her lips. “The ash of a regular tree?”

Elijah touched her shoulder gently. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “I won’t let that happen to you, no matter what threats Niklaus might make.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Not just any ash would do for daggering a vampire,” she explained. “Especially not one that was once descended from at least three powerful witch bloodlines.” She shrugged at her brother’s pointed glare. “She should know about these things, Elijah,” she scolded lightly. “She deserves to know about the things that could hurt her.”

Elena covered the hand on her shoulder with one of her own, sending her partner a reassuring smile before turning back to her friend. “What did you mean, about the bloodlines?”

“Exactly what I said,” Rebekah said, tone clipped. She scoffed. “I know the Salvatores taught you little of vampire politics— _children_ , honestly—but how can you not know your own family’s history?”

“Cut me some slack,” the Doppelgänger snapped, squaring her shoulders. It was peak _ruffled feathers_ and _rising haunches_ ; it might have been terrifying to humans, but it was little more than amusing to the Original Vampires in the room. “I didn’t even know I was adopted until I was _seventeen_ , and—and—and the only one who could ever tell me stuff is Katherine, and hey—I’m not going _near_ her, am I?”

The woman rolled her eyes again. “Right,” she drawled. “Well, time for a crash course, darling. Katerina, in her lonely, pathetic human days, was a Traveler. Untapped, as far as I could tell. Part of a coven that was cursed a thousand years before my mother had her first child.”

“Why were they cursed?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t care,” she replied breezily. “But the Petrov Family was one of the most powerful and influential families in the whole lot—something about a sacrifice or a tragedy… something or other.” She shook her head. “Anyway, there’s one bloodline.”

“But there were others,” Elijah sighed, jumping in. He pinched his brow. “History works in sevens, you know, just like science and nature, even religion—seven sins and virtues, seven days of the week, seven Mikaelson children, seven werewolf clans, seven supernatural species, seven types of magic…” He shook his head, a wry grin curling at his lips. “It’s called the lucky number for a reason.”

“Do get on with it, big brother.”

“My point being,” he said calmly, shooting her a glare, “that many centuries ago, there were only seven families of witches, scattered across the continents. The Petrovs were one, though they weren’t called that until much later, and in the grand scheme, they were quite low on the totem pole. Servants, mostly, until this… tragedy. It caused a split in the covens, and then the Petrovs were second-in-command. They married down the line, presumably trying to break their curse by marrying into other covens, other types of magic, to no avail.” He sighed. “It’s been many years, but there was at least one family of Siphoners—those with no energy of their own, forced to draw from outside forces—and one or two in Arabia, as well as several practicing Black Magic.”

“So the real point here, love,” Rebekah sighed, “is that you were more than just a Doppelgänger. You were a witch.” She tsked. “I’d be willing to bet your blood is still fairly powerful. So… regular ash and a dagger won’t work.”

Elena blinked rapidly for a moment, processing. Then, avoiding all that, she asked shakily, “What exactly are we talking, here? What specific ash would he need?”

She huffed. “The dagger by itself is meaningless,” she sighed. “Essentially useless. Yes, it has a charm on it, which allows it to be used on us, but that charm only works in conjunction with ash. Most of the time, that’s white oak ash, _only_ to be used on _Originals_ —a few centuries ago, however, after the failure of a sacrifice with that wench Katherine, Nik got… creative. Curious. You know how artists can get.”

The Doppelgänger grimaced. “Okay.”

“He started experimenting,” Elijah spat. “First with the daggers themselves, then with the ash.”

“He found out,” Rebekah continued, “that if any vampire—Original or otherwise—was stabbed with a dagger and no ash, they would heal. They were, after all, only silver daggers.” She huffed. “Then he started with the ash, and that’s where the real fun began.”

“Meaning?” Elena asked.

Elijah sighed. “Klaus, of course, cannot be daggered. We’ve discussed this before.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Of course.”

He smiled, just slightly, before he continued, “The rest of us Originals can only be daggered in conjunction with white oak ash. No other ash will work for even a moment.”

“It took a long time,” Rebekah added after a moment. “Decades, really, for Nik to figure out how to dagger a normal vampire. He must have tried hundreds of different combinations before he realized the one that was practically staring him straight in the face.”

Elena tilted her head, confused. “I… I don’t understand.”

The blonde rolled her eyes with a sigh. “What were the most important parts of the sacrifice ritual?” she asked, tone bland. “The one that released Klaus from our mother’s spell?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just humor me.”

“A vampire, a werewolf, the Doppelgänger, the Moonstone, a witch to do the spell…” Elena listed them, going through what she remembered as she ticked them off.

Rebekah nodded. “And?” she pressed. “What else?”

She blinked. “A place to do the spell,” she said. “That’s it, I think.”

“Where did the spell need to take place?”

“In the—” Elena’s eyes widened slightly in realization. “In the birthplace of the Doppelgänger—me. Mystic Falls.”

“Such an odd little necessity, don’t you agree, brother?” Rebekah mused. She shook her head. “Of course, the Doppelgänger is never born in the same place twice, so you never knew where the spell would need to be cast, but still.”

Elijah sighed, running a hand over his face in an unusual sign of frustration. “Get on with it, Rebekah.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” she retorted. She huffed. “Anyway, my point is: Nik would need ash from within the borders of your hometown. More specifically, the town you were born in. For you, that’s Mystic Falls—funny how things work out like that, isn’t it?” She blinked, sending her an innocent smile. “That in order to dagger you, Nik would need the ash of any tree from home other than the one he has…”

For a moment, the three were quiet. There was a sound from the hall; Caroline and Hayley were arguing over something. It only lasted a second before their voices calmed, seemingly coming to an agreement.

Elena sighed and shifted to stand. As she moved toward the hall, Elijah blocked her path.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower?” Her head tilted, nose and brow scrunched in distaste. “It’s been a long day, even before I got sick, and I feel gross. Like my skin is gonna start peeling off out of revulsion. _That_ gross.”

“That’s disgusting,” Rebekah said, very quietly, as her mouth twisted in horror.

Elijah sighed. “Elena… we need to talk about this.”

His partner glanced away with pursed lips. “Fine,” she huffed. “But later. For now… I just really want to shower and change—and maybe take a nap. A long, _long_ nap. Sleep for a hundred years, until I don’t feel like I’m going to explode anymore.” A sigh. “Just… just let me clean up, sleep off this bad feeling. Then we can start fresh, okay? I promise we’ll talk.”

Briefly, she thought about kissing his cheek, but she quickly thought better of it and settled for patting his arm comfortingly. While she was pretty sure she didn’t smell like vomit anymore, it was better safe than sorry.

“Talking can wait for a little while. A few hours, at least.”

Elijah caught her arm when she moved to pass him. His hand curled around her elbow to pull her back; she was half-spun around, pulled against his chest with a single tug. A second later, as Elijah leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, the rushing sound of blood pounding through Elena’s veins drowned out the sound of Rebekah’s faux-irritated scoff.

It only lasted a moment—just a brief, almost pointed brush of his mouth against hers, before he pulled away. He pressed their foreheads together with a soft, exasperatedly fond sigh, as if to say, _I don’t like this, but I should have known._

“Tomorrow.” It wasn’t quite a promise or a warning, nor was it a statement or question; rather, it was some strange combination, something lingering in the back of his eyes as he watched her. “We will talk tomorrow.”

Elena smiled softly, nodding as she retreated from his hold. “Tomorrow,” she agreed. “Of course.” She left the two Originals staring after her as she disappeared from the kitchen.

Rebekah wasted no time in heaving a great sigh, sliding from her stool to stand and crossing her arms as her brother turned to her with a questioning look.

“Elena will be fine,” she told him. Her voice and gaze were forceful. “She’s strong—you know that better than almost anyone. She’ll figure it out.”

Elijah shook his head, straightening his cuffs absently. “She shouldn’t have to,” he intoned. “If she would tell me what—”

“Oh, stop it, Elijah,” Rebekah scolded. “You can’t solve her problems for her, and she wouldn’t want you to. You used to know that. _Respect_ that. If and when she figures out what’s going on in her mind, she will tell you when she’s ready.” Her gaze softened slightly. “She needs _time_ , Elijah. You both do.”

His eyes narrowed. “You know something.” His tone was accusing; if she didn’t know any better, she’d say it was almost a threat. “Rebekah—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t ask me that—don’t make me say something we’ll all regret.” She shook her head. “Elijah… you can’t cut through the red tape on this one. And I can’t help you. So just… let it be for now.”

She was gone before he could make another sound. The elder Original was left staring out the window and across the field of land that made up their backyard, lost in thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter this time (second-longest so far, phew)!! Sorry for the wait!
> 
> Happy reading :)


	30. Finders Keepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Certain weapons… They come in a matching set… One was in your boyfriend less than an hour ago…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, IMPORTANT CONTEXT BECAUSE I’M SNEAKY, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, History of Daggers??? Kinda??, IDK What Else To Tag?

Elena was pushing her empty suitcase under her bed when her bedroom door creaked open and clicked shut. Before she could turn to see who was there, and seemingly at the exact same time as the sound of the door closing, Caroline appeared on her bed, arms and legs sprawled across the duvet with her blonde hair splaying over the pillows.

“Hey,” the blonde vampire said with a grin, patting the space beside her. She turned onto her side when her friend sighed, fondly exasperated, and joined her on the bed. “So, Hayley found something… interesting in Klaus’ study.”

Elena raised a brow as she faced her. “What’s that?” She stifled a yawn with her fist. “Weird African carvings depicting the Hybrid Sacrifice? A collection of nineteenth-century fanfiction based on Jane Austen’s novels? Lawn darts?”

“No—What?” The blonde’s nose wrinkled as she laughed, incredulous. “No! Why would she find any of that?”

She shrugged, giggling, and let her eyes slip closed as she hummed, “I dunno. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing Klaus has done.” She sighed, shaking her head. “What did she find, then?”

“Oh, you know…” Caroline drawled slowly. “Certain weapons… They come in a matching set… One was in your boyfriend less than an hour ago…”

Elena bolted up on the bed, sending a pillow flying to the floor. Her eyes were suddenly wide and frantic as she looked down at the other woman. “The daggers?” she whispered harshly. “She found the daggers? All of them?”

Caroline nodded as she sat upright and pulled something from behind her back. It was a sleeve of leather, more than a pouch but less than a satchel, and when she lifted the flap it was to see three dagger-hilts, intricately twisted iron softened with leather binds.

Elena gasped, reaching out but stopping short of touching them, hesitant. “Oh, my God,” she muttered. “I can’t believe it…”

The blonde’s head tilted slightly in concerned bemusement as her friend took the package from her hands. “Shouldn’t there be… more? I feel like there should be more, if Klaus kept them all daggered together. At least four, right?”

She hesitated. “There are,” she said slowly. “The Five and their witch had one for each Original, including Mikael, so there are three more out there. But Klaus doesn’t have any of them.”

“Who does?” Caroline pressed. “I mean… where are the other three right now? Do you know?”

“Rebekah gave one to Stefan to dagger Kol with, but we never used it,” Elena told her, still a bit dazed with the discovery.

It felt like a weight lifted from her shoulders, from her chest—she hadn’t really been afraid for herself so much as she feared for Elijah’s safety, or Rebekah’s, or Caroline’s.

She shook her head. “Elijah has one from when I daggered and undaggered him last year. I gave it to him as a sign of faith, and I have no idea what he did with it.”

“And the other?”

She shrugged. “I know Kol had four of them—he stole them before…” She trailed off with a grimace and shook her head again to clear it. “These three must have made their way back to Klaus somehow. I’m guessing Kol has the last one hidden somewhere—it’s probably still in Mystic Falls, unless he gave it to a witch or friend to keep safe, but I don’t know why he would or how he could trust anyone with it.”

Caroline sighed, almost relieved. “Good,” she said as she nodded. Her lips lifted in a bright grin. “So. What do you wanna do? Hide them? Give them to Bonnie or Lucy?”

Elena thought about it before shaking her head. “We can’t burden Bonnie with this,” she sighed. “She’s got way too much going on back home to deal with our problems, too. And we don’t know enough about Lucy’s loyalties to trust her not to turn around and give them right back to Klaus.”

“We could destroy them.”

She scoffed. “Are you kidding?” A tsk. “Care, these things were made with magic—a _lot_ of magic. Like, a witch literally channeled five people, and probably died in the process. They can’t just be destroyed by regular means; it has to be by magic—at least as much as the stuff that created them. We would need a powerful witch for that, maybe more than one, and there’s no way that’s going to happen in this city any time soon.”

“Back to hiding, then,” Caroline sighed. “But where? And how can we keep a witch from tracking them?” Her head tilted. “Do cloaking spells like that exist?”

“Of course they do,” Elena retorted. “I saw at least three in Bonnie’s grimoire. That’s not the hard part—the hard part is sneaking them out of the house to hide in the first place.” The Doppelgänger pursed her lips in thought, sliding off the bed to stand.

She moved to the bookcase Elijah had helped her stock earlier in the day, pulling down one of the larger tomes. It was a hide-a-key of sorts, something she’d found tucked in the back of his study in Mystic Falls, no longer in use. He’d freely given it to her, this box for all the keepsakes she’d lost or the ones she didn’t have yet.

She slid the pouch inside and closed it tightly, making sure it latched. Then she put it back on the shelf and turned back to the bed.

“For now, I just want to go to sleep,” she said quietly, crawling up onto the mattress until her head hit the pillow. She tugged her comforter out from under her body so that she had room to wiggle beneath it, then sighed as she relaxed into a comfortable position for sleep. “Tomorrow…”

Elena trailed for a moment, meeting her friend’s curious gaze with a mischievous grin. This was sure to be an exciting weekend, that was for sure.

“Tomorrow, I want to go shopping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope to have a longer chapter up soon! Thanks so much for reading and giving your support!


	31. If I Wanted to Be Harassed Because of My Ancestors, I Would’ve Just Stayed Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But neither of us are the kind to say, ‘friend of a friend’. We’ve been burned too many times for that, trusted too easily too often to do that now or ever again.”
> 
> “You realize that, technically, I’m—”
> 
> “—Klaus’ family. Yeah, I know. And where did that get you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Caroline Forbes, Marcel Gerard, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, IMPORTANT CONTEXT BECAUSE I’M SNEAKY, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, History of Daggers??? Kinda??, Elena and Caroline Are Maybe Too Snarky For Their Own Good, BAMF Elena?? But Then She Immediately Panics LOL, This Is Why Elena and Elijah Are Perfect For Each Other, Words As Tools, Sneaky! Elena and Caroline, IDK What Else To Tag

Caroline marked another spot on the map. “Okay, so we left one in the French Market.”

“Check.”

Elena looked up and down the rail of the ferry to make sure no one was looking. Most had their eyes closed, and those who didn’t were focused more on their companions or the water than anything else around them. Good.

“Do you have the last sheath?”

“Yeah.”

A little rummaging, and Caroline passed it over; it was long and thin, barely fitting over the sharp length of the dagger it was meant for, and made of thick, heavy, sticky wax.

(The blonde vampire had caught the Bennett witch outside town, before she could leave the country again, and asked her for a tiny favor.

“Cloaking spell?” Lucy tilted her head, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “For what, exactly?”

Caroline pursed her lips. “If I tell you, are you gonna run and tell Klaus?”

Lucy snorted. “I doubt it.” The blonde raised a brow, and she sighed. “Look, I’ve been friends with Klaus for years, but it’s not like we talk. He pays my bills and sends the occasional tip my way in exchange for a favor every now and then—that’s pretty much it. Sometimes, I even turn him down. It’s not like I tell him everything, and he doesn’t go out of his way for me, either.”

It was Caroline’s turn to sigh. “Sorry,” she said softly. “It’s just… kind of sensitive. And it’s very important that Klaus does not find out about this.”

The witch nodded. “Then I won’t tell him,” she said easily, shrugging. “But if you want me to cloak something, I need to know what it is. I don’t necessarily need to see it, but I do need to know so I can tailor the spell correctly.”

“So,” the vampire had drawled. “If I needed something to cloak, say, three magical daggers…”

She blinked rapidly in surprise. “Uh, yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, I’d need to know about that. Where—how did you even get _near_ them?”

Caroline smirked. “Just a little digging around.” She shrugged. “We want to hide them—separately, of course, not all together—but we need to _keep_ them hidden. Hence, cloaking spell.”

“Why not just ship them off somewhere?” Lucy had asked, brow raised. “Or destroy them?”

“Elena insists that they can’t be destroyed by anything but magic, and a lot of it,” the blonde had explained with a grimace. “I happen to agree, because it makes sense given the story of their creation.” She sighed as the witch nodded. “We don’t exactly have anyone we trust to take care of them, no offense—Bonnie, Matt, the Salvatores are all out, too, for various reasons.” She tsked and shook her head. “So, the easiest way is to hide them, but we need a way to keep witches from locating them through a spell or whatever. And I guess keep people from accidentally finding them.”

The witch had thought about it for a moment before shrugging. “Sure. Shields were always one of my strong suits, anyway.”

“One other thing.” Caroline held up a vial; it glowed crimson in the sunrise. “Just in case.”)

Once the Doppelgänger had a grip on the sheath, Caroline grimaced and wiped her hand on her jeans, turning back to her map. “The second one is buried near Squires House.”

“Right.” Elena carefully took the last dagger from her bag. The red wax was warm in her palm; her fingers tingled as she shoved the knife through the opening. “Where’s my—never mind.”

A drop of blood sealed the bond between metal and wax. After all, it was her blood, willingly given, that created the spell in the first place. Two spells, actually—one for binding and one preventing it from being found either by accident or by spell.

“And this one…” Caroline watched her line up the shot, mapping out the trajectory with a narrowed gaze “…is going into the middle of the Mississippi, more or less.”

Elena drew her arm back, dagger balanced between her fingers like an oversized dart. “So it is.”

Her arm sprang forward at vamp-speed, all her superhuman strength behind it. She watched as the blade sailed through the air, catching the sunlight in a bright burst before crashing into the waves.

Unfortunately, between the water, the engine, and the chatter onboard, it was impossible to use vamp-hearing on the ferry. She tried anyway, listening for some sound, some clang or thump, as the dagger settled against all the other garbage on the river’s floor. Not a peep.

Elena dusted her hands off and leaned against her elbows on the railing in front of them. The view of the Mississippi River was beautiful, especially as the hour grew closer to sunset. They had been out all day, alternating between shopping and disposing of the daggers in various places. More than likely, she knew, the only reason they were even able to sneak out of the Plantation had been the fact that Hayley and Rebekah were still asleep, Elijah was out to talk to the witches about something over breakfast, and Klaus had yet to return from his night adventures with his pal Marcel.

The Doppelgänger glanced at her best friend. “You know we’re just gonna have to burn that map when we get back to the mansion. If Klaus ever found it…”

Caroline shrugged as she refolded the paper and put it back in her purse. “Yeah. I know. I will.”

“So why bother marking it? It’s basically useless.”

“So I can visualize it later. If we ever need them, or think someone else has them, we need to be able to check. Preferably without a witch casting a spell or you putting yourself in danger.” She paused. “Speaking of which, are you okay?”

Elena blinked, surprised at the sudden change. “Of course I am,” she said, smile only slightly confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Elena, yesterday you threw up so much you almost desiccated on the bathroom floor,” she retorted. “I think it’s a pretty normal question to ask, after that.”

The brunette shook her head. “I told you,” she sighed. “I just got dizzy. Between Elijah getting daggered, and fighting with Klaus, and everything else—it just got a little rough. But I’m _fine_. I promise.”

Her friend watched her for a long moment, analyzing her, but eventually shook her head. She’d tell her when she was ready—she had to have faith in that.

Instead, Caroline asked, “How are we gonna get vervain around here? I mean, what if Klaus tries to read our minds or something—we need to be taking it.”

Elena just shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure there are plenty of apothecaries in the city.” She sighed. “I’ve got a stash big enough for maybe five or six months. You can have some of mine, if you’re worried, but I don’t think he’d just go into your mind if you told him not to.”

“You carry that much? How did you even get it through the airport?”

Her smile was sly. “Checked luggage, Care.” She shook her head. “Besides, it’s always good to have a surplus on hand, and it’s not like it’s all one kind. I’ve got some oil, some for tea, some jewelry…”

“Wait.” Caroline’s head tilted to the side in confusion. “Since when are you on vervain? I mean, I know you weren’t taking it when you had your humanity off.”

A nod. “Yeah. I mean—I wasn’t. It was stupid, but you’re right.” She sighed. “And I didn’t take any this week, for a couple reasons, but I’ve mostly been on it since I moved into the mansion back home. Took a dose this morning, too, so I can start getting back into it. The routine, I mean.”

The blonde’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Why? I thought you trusted Elijah not to compel you. Again, I mean.”

“I do,” Elena said, frowning. “It’s not about compulsion for me, Caroline. It’s about building a tolerance. Katherine did it—Stefan and Damon did it. They _still_ do it, I assume.”

She smiled softly, running her fingers over the rail in thought.

“I just figure, between what’s going on down here and what we were dealing with back home, with the Council and the witches and whatever else, and Klaus before that… I just think that it’s better to suffer through the sting of vervain for a minute when I don’t need to than, you know, be crippled by a surprise attack.”

“Wise words, little lady.”

Both heads whipped around at the voice. A dark-skinned man in a worn leather jacket was leaning backward on the rail on Elena’s other side, boots crossed at the ankle. He hadn’t been there a second ago, they both knew, which meant he must have approached during the very end of her explanation. Maybe he heard Klaus’ name and came to check them out.

“Let me ask you somethin’,” he drawled, arms crossed over his chest as he smirked. “What are two pretty young things like yourselves doin’ out here all by your lonesome?”

Caroline’s mouth twisted in a scowl, and she crossed her arms and cocked her hip slightly. “My mother is a Police Sheriff and my dad was in Iraq for four years. We can take care of ourselves, thanks,” she quipped.

The man didn’t seem upset by her attitude; in fact, her biting tone only seemed to make his grin widen. “Oh, I have no doubt about that.” His eyes raked over the two of them in turn—not sexual, not really, just observant. “You two must be new in town,” he said after a moment. “I know you ain’t none of mine.”

“Your what?” Caroline scoffed. “Riff-raff? Instigators?”

“Bit racist of you.”

“If you want to be technical, it was meant to be sexist.” She shrugged at his raised brow. “I’m not particularly fond of men that sneak up on me to make demands.”

“Well, since I _did_ , in fact, ‘sneak up on’ you, I’ll let that one slide.”

“Vampires,” Elena answered, sighing as she cut the argument short. “He means we aren’t in his line of vampires.” The man tilted his head, intrigued, and she told him flatly, “We’re not from your sireline, no.” Her mouth twitched. “At least,” she said with a small smirk, “probably not the way you’d think.”

He waited, as if hoping she would explain. When she didn’t, he chuckled, dropping his arms to his sides before raising his hands in faux surrender. It was almost charming, but then she realized why it looked so familiar, and she fought not to grimace in disgust—finding Klaus’ adopted son _charming_ was not something she ever expected or wanted to happen.

“You must be new to the city, then,” he repeated with a grin. “Good. I get the feeling you two could bring a little… somethin’ to the party I got happening around here. Besides, it’s always fun to see new faces—human or not.” He winked.

“Who the hell are you?” Caroline asked, blunt. Elena sent her a sharp glare, which she returned with a raised brow and pursed lips. “Seems like we skipped a step here, is all I’m saying.”

“Oh, my deepest apologies,” he said dramatically, giving a deep (and quite honestly _ridiculous_ ) bow. Like father, like son. “Allow me to introduce myself. Marcel Gerard.” He rose with a smug grin. “King of the French Quarter, at your service. Welcome to my city.”

“ _Your_ city?” The blonde tilted her head, her expression shifting to one of innocent confusion that could never be real. On anyone. Ever. Especially Caroline Forbes. “Funny, I always thought it was part of the U-S-A.”

Marcel just laughed. “ _Damn_ , girl,” he said, whistling. “I like you. You got that— _edge_ to you. Feisty. Reminds me of somebody I know, actually. You’re gonna fit right in around here.” His brow raised as he leaned close, like he was telling them a secret. “Long as you can follow the rules, that is.”

Elena rolled her eyes with a huff, straightening from her position at the rail. She pulled her hair back, whipping it up into a messy bun and pushing her sunglasses up to rest over her brow.

“Let me guess,” she drawled, smirking slightly when his jaw went a bit slack in recognition. “No killing other vamps, no magic in the Quarter, no hurting any kids… and stay out of your way.” She raised a brow at the man. “Did I get all that, _Marcellus_? Or am I missing something?”

His eyes went wide for a second, but he covered it quickly. “ _Katherine_ , I swear to God—”

“Not Katherine, nimrod,” Caroline snapped, stepping partially in front of her friend. She paused only when Elena put a hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

“I got it, Care,” the Doppelgänger said softly. The two shared a nod, and Elena took a deep breath as her friend stepped back once more. “Marcel, I promise I’m not Katherine.” She raised a brow. “If I was, why would I willingly come to the same city as Klaus?”

The older vampire frowned, not exactly apologetic. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just—man, I didn’t realize Doppelgängers looked so much alike.”

Elena grimaced. “I _really_ wish I could get away from that,” she simpered dramatically, pouting. “It’s all anybody ever wants to talk about, like that’s all I’m good for. _‘Oh, you’re the Doppelgänger? Klaus will wanna meet you!’_ ” She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the direction of her best friend, who giggled brightly, playing it up. “Yeah, been there, done that—died _twice_ for him, thanks!”

“Almost three times,” Caroline chimed. “Remember that time when he sent that—”

“Oh, yeah!” She snapped her fingers as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. “Almost three! Totally forgot. So, yeah,” she mused, turning back to the older vampire, “I’m a Doppelgänger, but don’t expect me to be naïve about it. We crossed that bridge a long time ago. Honestly, it’s a little insulting that that’s all I seem to be recognized for, not that it’s only vampires doing it.”

“That sounds like an interesting story,” Marcel said, interest piqued as he held out a hand. “One I hope you’ll tell me over drinks sometime, Miss…”

“Elena Gilbert,” she said finally. “For now. I’m thinking of changing it, now that I’m in the city.”

“Really?” Caroline interjected. “I didn’t know that. What were you thinking?”

“I thought maybe I’d ask you-know-who, but he just kept giving me _ye olde_ last names that were either references to dead authors or just blatant compliments.” She laughed and shrugged at Marcel’s raised brow. “Mostly, I just wanna… cut ties, finish loose ends, you know? I mean, you can’t exactly use the same full name for centuries, right?”

“Don’t change too much, though,” he suggested as she finally put her palm in his. “You never wanna completely abandon your roots, and you match your name so well it’d be a tragedy to get rid of it just like that.” He kissed the back of her hand, surprising her.

“Right…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Elena,” he said cheerily. “Tell me, how do you already know the rules if this is your first time in town? And I know it is—I would definitely remember seeing you two.”

He winked at Caroline when he said it, and Elena rolled her eyes as he dropped her hand to take the blonde’s. Once her friend had muttered an introduction and retrieved her hand, Elena straightened her bag and crossed her arms over her chest with a snort. Instead of commenting on it, though, she decided to answer his question—maybe less than truthfully, but he had yet to earn the full truth, anyway.

“Like I said, I’ve already died for Klaus twice,” she drawled. “When I heard he came running back down here, rekindling an old bromance—” she looked him up and down pointedly “—I couldn’t resist the opportunity to see him screw it up, and Caroline came along for the ride.” The man just looked at her, questioning, and she smiled grimly. “Klaus never has been the best at accepting good things in his life.”

“We have experience with that,” Caroline added. She shrugged. “Not from Klaus, exactly, but we know the type. Figured we’d come down and help his brother convince him to behave while he has it good.”

“So you know Elijah, too,” Marcel mused. “Unless Kol’s out of his box.”

“Kol’s dead,” she told him, shaking her head. “Died weeks ago—months, really. You should know that—Klaus is still pretty upset over it.” She snorted. “Besides, do you really think Kol would have had any interest in telling Klaus to behave? He’d probably just join in on the massacre.”

Elena grimaced, pain shooting through her head at the mere mention of Kol and his demise, and reached out to grasp the rail. Flashes of that night… Jeremy’s eyes watching the Original burn… the screams that pierced the air…

It brought tears to her eyes. She looked away, out across the river, trying to keep it together. The metal beneath her hand grew warm; the sensation snapped her out of it. She tuned back into the conversation.

“Elijah, then.”

Elena forced herself to grin—to meet Marcel’s gaze like nothing was amiss. “Elijah’s the reason I’m standing here today,” she said.

It was vague if you knew what she was talking about, but there was no way Marcel could, and she could tell he took her words at face value.

“I owe him a debt.”

Caroline snorted. “Actually, I’m pretty sure he owes you this week,” she said, head tilted in thought. “Mmm… Yeah, I think so.”

“Really?” Her brow raised, incredulous. “You keep score?”

The blonde tsked. “Yep, I have a chart and everything, from ever since you met. Somebody has to.” She shrugged. “I’d bet money that Elijah keeps score, too, you know. He definitely seems like the type.”

“So, what is it?” Marcel asked, amused, as he crossed his arms. “Two to one? A million to nine-hundred-thousand? You gotta tell me—two hundred years, and I’ve never known Elijah to owe anybody anything.”

“As of this week, it’s thirty-one to twenty-seven, Elena’s favor,” Caroline chirped. “He owes her at least four times over now.” Her grin turned sly. “Not that it really matters,” she stage whispered. “He’ll pretty much do whatever she wants, anyway.”

“Must be nice, having an Original at your beck and call.” The older vampire chuckled. “How’d you manage that?”

Elena smirked, leaning against the railing. “Elijah prides himself on his negotiating skills. Anyone who’s ever met him more than once knows that,” she explained, just a little smug. “Play to your audience—I make a mean deal when I want to.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it for a second,” he said. His brow rose, head tilted in thought. “If you know the brothers…”

“I know Rebekah, too,” she finished breezily. Caroline grumbled and tossed her hair, and Elena waved her off, not taking her eyes off the vampire in front of her. “They don’t get along,” she told him conspiratorially. Then she shrugged. “Me and Rebekah aren’t great friends, either, really—stabbed her in the back, literally, about six months ago, and she’s not quite over it yet. We’re working on it. Me being in the city helping her family helps a little, I guess.”

Marcel shrugged. “Good luck with that,” he said wryly. “The Rebekah I knew never could let go of a good grudge, even after an apology or ten. Of course, that was over ninety years ago, but…”

“People change,” Elena spat harshly. “A year ago, I never thought I’d cross half the country chasing a family that all wanted me dead at some point, but hey—here I am.”

Her expression was serious, cold. It wasn’t Katherine that Caroline was reminded of, though; rather, the dark look almost perfectly matched the stern gaze of a certain dark-haired Original. She wondered if Marcel saw the resemblance, as well.

“Just so we’re clear, Marcel,” the Doppelgänger continued, tone bland. “You and Caroline? Me and you?” She shook her head. “Not friends. _Elijah_ is my friend, something we worked very hard for over the last year. Klaus is Caroline’s friend, even if she won’t admit it—shut up, Care, he totally is.”

She glared briefly at the blonde before turning back to the older vampire.

“But neither of us are the kind to say, ‘friend of a friend’. We’ve been burned too many times for that, trusted too easily too often to do that now or ever again.”

“You realize that, technically, I’m—”

“—Klaus’ family.” She nodded. “Yeah, I know. And where did that get you? How’s your relationship with Klaus?” She shook her head. “Look, I’m not interested in getting into the nitty gritty of how badly the two of you have fucked this up—or even how stupid all _four_ of you are acting. My point is this: Caroline and I will tolerate you and your rules for the duration of our stay, so long as the others do the same.” A shrug. “Maybe we’ll even become friends down the line. Who knows? But right now you’re just a brat that used to be our friends’ brother, and until that changes…”

“So let me get this straight,” Marcel clarified, eyes narrowed. “You listen to Elijah and only Elijah, is that it? Same with Caroline and Klaus?”

Elena’s grin was feral. “Maybe, maybe not. Maybe my loyalties are to Klaus, your BFF, whom I’ve made peace with after everything we’ve been through. Maybe Caroline’s are with Elijah, who helped save her life a time or two. Maybe I’m loyal to Rebekah, the girl you dumped a century ago… or maybe even to my sire, who could be any one of them or none of them. I follow Elijah’s orders right now because I _feel_ like it, but I’m sure you’ve heard from _all_ the Originals just how _ruthless_ us Doppelgängers can be.”

Her chin tilted up, defiant under his incredulous stare.

“I’ve survived a lot in just the last two years, Marcel,” she said stiffly. “‘King of the Quarter’ or not, you don’t scare me. Whatever magic-tracking device, whatever _witch_ you have up your sleeve doesn’t scare me. Nothing you say, do, threaten, or claim to have will _ever_ scare me. So my connection to Rebekah, to Elijah, to Klaus and whoever else—my connection to this _city_ , is really none of your damn business.” She smiled brightly. “If you want to fight, we can—like I said, I’m a survivor. I will warn you, though…”

Elena tilted her head, glancing over her shoulder at the blonde who was steadfastly ignoring them at this point. Then she looked back up at him pointedly, grinning wide and sharp.

“Your buddy Klaus?” she said sweetly. “He’ll gladly rip this city apart if anything happens to that girl there. She won’t give him the time of day, of course, because she has more than two brain cells, but he’s smitten. Probably because she’s too smart for her own good and blunt as can be when it comes to telling him _no_. I get the feeling you know exactly what that feels like.” She reached out, dusting some nonexistent lint from the shoulder of his jacket. “Anyway—I suggest you just leave us alone. It’d be a lot easier on everybody.”

For a long minute, Marcel just stared at her, deadpan and serious with narrowed eyes and arms still crossed over his chest in that stiff, intimidating posture guys always seemed to get at some point. Then his face split in a grin, and he clapped his hands, rubbing them together in undisguised glee.

“We are gonna have so much fun,” he said cheerily, laughing. “I can already tell.” He tipped an imaginary hat and bowed slightly. “Until the next time we meet, ladies. Give Elijah my best.” A pause, and something glittered in his eyes, almost teasing, as he looked up at them from the lower angle. “You’re a lot like him, Elena—you _do_ make a mean deal when you want to. I see how you got him hooked.”

And then, in less than a blink, he was gone. Someone somewhere else on the boat announced something about disembarking over the speaker, and there was a slight tremor as the ferry docked.

“Holy shit.” Caroline stood next to her, linking their arms. Her eyes were wide as she looked at her best friend. “I can’t believe you just stood up to the most powerful vampire in New Orleans.”

“I… did,” Elena said, mouth slightly slack in shock. She could hardly believe it herself. “Holy—I just stood up to _Marcel_. I backtalked the Big Bad, _again_.”

She paused, and her head whipped around to stare at Caroline. Her eyes almost bugged out, and her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed. “Klaus is _so_ gonna kill me.”


	32. An Apology and a Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t worry, your secret plan for world domination is safe and sound. We’re not stupid.”
> 
> “That’s to be determined, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags on Tumblr:  
> Elena Gilbert, Klaus Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes, 4x18 American Gothic, 4x20 Originals, 1x1 Always and Forever, IMPORTANT CONTEXT BECAUSE I’M SNEAKY, Important Conversations, Relationship Dynamics, Elena and Caroline Are Maybe Too Snarky For Their Own Good, BAMF Elena?? But Then She Immediately Panics LOL, This Is Why Elena and Elijah Are Perfect For Each Other, Words As Tools, References to Possible Klaroline Story??, Soon-To-Be-an-Elejah-Date-Maybe

“You. Did. _What?_ ”

Elena took a breath, forcing herself to keep still when Klaus took a menacing step toward her. She glanced past him to see Elijah appear from the hall, leaning in the threshold with a concerned expression. She shook her head minutely, pursing her lips; she was fine for now.

“Caroline and I ran into Marcel on the ferry,” she repeated slowly, enunciating each word. “On our way back, I mean—a little while ago.”

“And how, exactly, did that come about?” the hybrid asked.

Elena rolled her eyes. “It’s not like we planned it,” she defended, crossing her arms. “Caroline wanted to watch the Sun set over the river, so we decided to take the ferry. We didn’t think any of Marcel’s lackeys would be onboard, let alone Marcel himself. Honestly, I thought you two would be out bonding again if I even thought about it at all.” She took a breath before huffing and shaking her head in frustration. They were getting off track. “Caroline and I were talking, and the next thing we knew, he was right there.”

“Talking about what?”

“Not you,” she snapped. “So don’t worry about it. Besides, there’s no way he heard anything we said, except maybe the very last thing before we noticed him, which was about taking vervain to build up a tolerance to sneak attacks. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” She huffed again. “Don’t worry, your secret plan for world domination is safe and sound. We’re not stupid.”

“That’s to be determined, love,” Klaus snarked. Then he sighed. “And then?”

“He asked what we were doing by ourselves—in what was probably the most insulting way—and since he was so weird, Caroline made a comment about her parents and us being just fine. So then he—”

“Her parents?”

Elena raised a brow. “Her mother, the _Sheriff_ , and her father, ex-military? Even as a lowly human, she was more than capable of taking care of herself. She’s managed to kick Damon’s ass several times, and he’s a century and a half older—how did _you_ think she managed that? By being a control freak? Or just because she’s Caroline? Come on.” She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Can I finish now?”

Klaus’ eyes narrowed, mouth opening again, but she plowed through whatever scathing remark he might have made. She didn’t have time for his scolding; she had a story to get through. Then maybe she could go to bed and relax after the stress of the day—or maybe even finally talk to Elijah about what the hell had been happening over the last few days and weeks.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure he… sensed us, or something. Or maybe he heard me say something about how being around you was one reason I started taking vervain again back home. I don’t know. There’s no way he would have approached us if he thought we were human, though.”

She held up a hand as he made to interrupt again.

“Don’t ask,” she sighed. “Just a feeling. The way he talked, greeted us… he knew we were vampires before he came over.” A sigh. “He said he knew we weren’t ‘his’, and he and Caroline got into it because she said something that sounded vaguely racist—which he pointed out and I happened to agree, don’t tell Caroline—but was actually more targeted toward his gender. Caroline doesn’t like men who act like they have a right to ask things of women. You should know that better than almost anyone.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry, I stopped that argument.”

“Oh, how nice,” Klaus snarked, throwing his hands up slightly. “I’m so _pleased_ you chose not to antagonize our enemy further. Bravo.”

Elena grit her teeth slightly.

Over his shoulder, she saw Elijah frown. His gaze flickered between her flat expression and Klaus’ dramatics. The expression wasn’t quite worried, but there was something lingering in his gaze and posture that made her want to get the rest of the story over with before he stepped in to split them up.

Elena continued as if the hybrid hadn’t spoken, adding, “Once we confirmed we were vampires—I actually made a comment about the three of us kinda-sorta being in the same sireline, but he pretty clearly did _not_ get the joke. I don’t get how, since I made it pretty obvious, but…”

She tsked, a bit irritated. If anyone should have gotten the joke, it should have been someone raised by Klaus and the Mikaelsons. She had been a bit disappointed when she realized it went right over his head, but she wasn’t going to risk explaining it. No sense in giving away the plot, especially when she hadn’t spent enough time with Marcel to determine where his true allegiances lay.

“Anyway, once that was done, he made this weird comment about it being nice to see new faces, and then Caroline acted all innocent and made us all go through the introductions. Because apparently that’s another thing Marcel got from you—maybe all of you, actually, now that I think about it. Just expecting people to know who you are and skipping introductions. It’s kinda funny. Then there was another mini-fight between Caroline and Marcel, but Marcel actually liked that Caroline was being rude which was—ew. Just, ew. I guess he’s more like you than I thought.”

“Please get on with it,” Klaus spat.

“Well, he knows we know the rules, we told him that. And he knew I was a Doppelgänger on sight, called me a _Petrova_ and everything, even mistook me for Katherine, so—I mean, first of all: Horrifying. Having someone _think_ they know you just from your face, _knowing_ you have a twin?”

Her nose wrinkled as she shook her head.

“I’m guessing part of it was stuff _you_ taught him—or maybe he saw a picture in a history book or grimoire lying around—but he definitely met Katherine at one point, too, which is one of the more depressing things to happen to me this month.” She grimaced. “Seems like everyone meets her first.” A _tsk_. “That probably happened when she was down here handing Hayley over to the witches like she was dinner, but I don’t know. I _do_ know that he _hates_ her, which honestly puts him in a little bit of a better light for me, _but_ the fact that he assumed _I_ was _her_ , knowing that you were in town… I mean, I couldn’t just let that lie. It’s just not who I am. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

“Meaning?”

“I had to defend myself,” she said, _defensively_. “Caroline helped me play it up.”

“Play _what_ up?” he growled, taking another step forward.

“Look, Klaus.” She kept her chin up, eyes flashing as she met his glare. “I’ve died for you or your family _twice_ now—almost three times. So _no_ , I’m not gonna be naïve about it. I know, I get it, I’m the Doppelgänger. Or I _was_. But we burned that bridge of innocence a _long_ time ago—before I even met Elijah, let alone you. I might not have had the word for it, but Katherine was my life’s rival for months before finding out about the sacrifice.”

Elena shrugged and sighed, arms crossed over her stomach and hands clutching at her elbows to keep herself together. She hated admitting to this—to any of it—but it was frustrating. She was irritated, upset, and _tired_ enough to explain it now; otherwise, she might have buried it like always.

“Every time some witch or vampire or whatever comes up, trying to explain my heritage, _my_ bloodline, _my_ importance—the spellwork, the magic, the sacrifices, yada yada yada… explain it like I’m some delicate, innocent snowflake, unaware of the crappy supernatural world we live in… I get a little more pissed off about it. And the fact that Marcel called me a _Petrova_ , took me for Katherine like I was anything like her… Yeah, no. Sue me, I decided to mess with him a little.”

Before he could cut in, she moved right along:

“Anyway, so when he asked how we already knew the rules, I may have told him Caroline and I were in town with you. For you. To help your brother _help you_ reacclimate to New Orleans. You know, peacefully. Not Klaus-like.”

Distracted for the moment, Klaus rubbed a hand over his face. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It _means_ that I’ve been friends with Damon for two years, and you two might be different in a _lot_ of ways, but I know of one thing you two have in common.” She narrowed her eyes pointedly, looking him over. Almost instinctively, she straightened her posture to brace herself. “You don’t think you deserve happiness or love or friendship or _whatever_ , so you push it away. Or run away. One or the other, maybe both if you feel like it.”

“I d—”

“You _do_ ,” she snapped. “Elijah and Rebekah might be too afraid of triggering one of your rampages to say it, but I’m not. It’s true whether you want to admit it or not. And _whether_ you want to admit it or not, we all know why. It doesn’t take a Psychology Major to figure it out.”

She took a breath, trying to keep herself in check before she did something monumentally stupid. Like try to slap some sense into him.

“Every now and then—a few times a century, maybe even less—you find something you want to keep. To hold on to. I’m guessing the first time was with…” she swallowed thickly, but refused to lose momentum “…Tatia, and then there were all those years trying to break the Curse, and then… What? Here? When you all made the big trip back across the big Atlantic and landed in _Louisiana_ , of all places. You built this city—that’s what you always say, isn’t it? That this was your home for centuries, and you built it from the ground up. Made it into what it is.”

Elena gestured around them grandly, mocking the speeches she had seen all the Mikaelsons give at one point. They always did love a good story; sometimes, it was like watching a TV or movie villain.

“And then, just like everything else you ever cared about, you _lost it_. The reason, the cause, the catalyst might have changed over the centuries. Your siblings, your mother, your father, your girl of the week, your own selfishness—it all shifted around through the years. But in the end, the outcome is the same in your mind; everything you touch, everything you care about, everything you ever thought could last… you’ve _always_ lost it. And yeah, it sucks.”

Elena sighed, crossing her arms over her stomach again as her hands started to shake. Somehow, she kept her voice steady as she continued. She never thought she would be giving an in-depth analysis into Klaus’ character, yet here she was. Regardless, it needed to be said, and she would be the one to say it if no one else would.

“It _sucks_ , Klaus, plain and simple, and maybe it’s easier to bury it all and put up your walls, hide away in your corner of rage. Maybe it’s easier to dagger your siblings or tell a witch it’s okay to _kill your child_. Maybe it’s _easier_ to hide behind quips and innuendo than admit to Caroline that you’re in love with her, and maybe it’s _easier_ to plot revenge against Marcel for _daring_ to take over the city after you left than being there for him as a brother or father or whatever it is you two are to each other.”

She shook her head slightly, gaze hard and pointed as she looked at him.

“But that’s not how life works, Klaus. Losing those things over and over—it doesn’t mean it’s your fault, or that you didn’t deserve to have those things, or that the universe is plotting against you. Bad shit happens sometimes, and it happens to everyone. _That’s_ life. You’ve just had more time to accumulate bad baggage than most people. That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to make peace the last month—yes, part of it is because of Elijah, but it’s mostly because everything from before was so stupid and useless that it shouldn’t matter anymore. It’s over. Time to move on.”

For a long moment, they were all quiet. Elena was breathing deeply, not quite winded from the rant but full of pent-up emotion trying to claw its way out. In the entryway, Elijah was, for once, utterly and completely stunned—wide-eyed and slack-jawed in a way she hadn’t seen since that night long ago when she had plunged a knife into her stomach not three feet from him. Klaus just looked… blank. Not surprised or upset or relieved or anything resembling _any_ emotion. Blank, like a new canvas.

After a minute, she shook herself slightly, snapping out of it with a heavy sigh. She took a step forward, reaching out as if to put a comforting hand on the hybrid’s arm.

Before she could get within two feet, however, Klaus jerked violently, shaking his head. He cleared his throat. “What else did you discuss with Marcel?” he asked, quiet and gruff.

Elena frowned at the change in subject, hand dropping to her side. “Klaus, I—”

“Elena.” His expression hardened, voice growing louder and more demanding.

She sighed and crossed her arms. “He knows Kol is dead,” she said, soft but blunt. She barely kept herself from wincing at the odd pain that pierced her mind even as she went stiff with it. “Caroline told him—he asked which brother we were helping, mentioned Kol. She set him straight—assumed he knew, actually, since we all know how upset you still are about it.” She shook her head. “Should have known you’d never talk about it, though. With anyone.”

A pause, and the hybrid shifted as his jaw clenched tightly. “And?”

Elena took a breath to steady herself. “We got into a discussion about debts, owing people and scores and such—doesn’t really concern you, so don’t worry about it.” She sighed. “He asked if we knew Rebekah. You know, since we obviously knew you and Elijah and Kol at some point, and we’re here for you and Elijah. Caroline, smart girl that she is, helped me play that one off.”

“Play it off?”

A shrug. “As far as Marcel is concerned, Rebekah and Caroline absolutely do _not_ get along, and me and Rebekah are… a work in progress. We don’t like each other, but we’re getting there. Didn’t tell him she killed me, but he knows I daggered her last year—I left out the fact that I was compelled and that she forgave me.”

“And is that true? That you two don’t get on well with our baby sister?”

“No.” She smirked. “Caroline doesn’t care about Rebekah one way or another, even with the stuff they went through over Matt, and me and Bekah are on good terms again since that road trip and the whole Cure thing.”

Another shrug as her grin widened into something wicked. It was fun using words as weapons; she had always been good at finding hidden meanings with Elijah, and now she was doing the same. There was a certain… _thrill_ that came with adapting her partner’s mode of attack to her own needs.

“I daggered her under compulsion, she killed me to save her family—we both talked about it, and we figure we’re even. Marcel didn’t need to know all that, though. He just needed to know Caroline and I are helping you guys. Anything else is… circumstance. It can be manipulated. I didn’t exactly _lie_. I just told select truths.”

She rolled her eyes with a huff when he frowned and glared at her. Sometimes he was a real killjoy. At least Elijah seemed amused by her tactics.

“Plus, Marcel is already questioning where our loyalties lie, which, let’s be honest—is always a bonus when you’re dealing with an enemy. Don’t know why you insist on making him into one, but…”

Klaus blinked, surprised and confused. “What?”

“Marcel questioned my loyalties?”

“How so?”

“Well, I told him you and Caroline are friends, and me and Elijah are friends, but that we’re not really _friend of a friend_ type people,” she explained with a shrug. “Not anymore, at least. He drew his own conclusion—that Elijah is the only one I listen to—and I corrected him in the vaguest way possible. Said my loyalties could lie with anyone. That yeah, I do what Elijah says _for now_ , but that could change with the tide. Doppelgängers are shady; at least, the ones he’s probably heard of were. So it makes sense that I would be, too, so I think he bought it.”

Elena sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. She needed a shower; the strands were oily and reeked of at least a dozen clashing perfumes from the various stores Caroline had forced her into. And besides that, she was exhausted.

“Other than that… I pretty much told him it was none of his business where my loyalties lie, whether with any Originals or Caroline or my sire.”

Klaus nodded, almost defeated. “Anything else? Did you leave anything at all out?”

She shifted, uncertain, and went through the conversation in her mind before tilting her head.

“Well, he asked me out for drinks to talk about the whole _died for you twice_ thing—which you never thanked me for, by the way, that’s kind of rude—and he also flirted with Caroline, which was weird but also totally in character? Especially if he’s your kid. Just saying, you might want to let him know she’s off-limits.” She paused, grimacing slightly under his glare. “I mean, I kind of told him that already, saying you’d probably be pissed if anything happened to Caroline. Which was true,” she pointed out. “And then I told him it’d be better if he just left us alone and didn’t pick a fight… and he got weirdly happy about that, said we’d have _fun_.”

Klaus scoffed, throwing his arms up and turning around in a frustrated circle. “Is there anything you _didn’t_ tell him, love?” he asked, sarcastic.

Elena shrugged and answered anyway. “I didn’t say anything that wouldn’t have eventually become clear anyway,” she defended. “You want to take Caroline out—now Marcel knows you’ll protect her, which he would have figured out the second he saw you two together. It’s kind of obvious. Everything else we talked about was just… me misleading him for the greater good of the war you insist on having it. I still don’t get why you’re bothering, besides the witches, but I’m trying to help.”

She took a breath, glancing behind him to see Elijah’s brow raised in a complicated expression of exasperation, amusement, irritation, and curiosity. It wasn’t surprising. This probably wasn’t going to go over well between them, especially not so early in their relationship.

“I told him I wasn’t afraid of him, which is more a mark on my character than on yours. I told him Caroline and I don’t get along with Rebekah, which will lead him to believe anything the two of us do has nothing to do with her. Besides, between you three, she’s usually the odd one out.”

“That’s not—”

“It is true.” Elena leveled the hybrid with a flat stare. “How often have you left her out of family decisions just because she’s your _baby sister_? How many times have you taken what little choice and freedom she has away from her?” She shook her head. “You need to stop acting like you don’t know _exactly_ why she feels left out. It’s not a healthy relationship, not for any of you, and to be honest, I don’t know how any of you deal with it.”

She sighed, backtracking.

“I didn’t tell him about me and Elijah, just that we were friends and owed each other a lot—but the way I phrased it probably made it sound like I was the kind of person to trade loyalties when it benefits me, like Katherine. He knows we’ll play by his rules if you guys do the same. He knows Kol is dead, but not why or how, which you could use as a big reveal if you wanted or needed to sometime down the road. There was a lot of vagueness in the conversation that could easily be used to your advantage, if you wanted. So, really, I was doing you a favor.”

Klaus’ expression hardened in unadulterated rage, and he lunged for her. “You—”

“Niklaus.” Elijah’s voice, stern, stopped him in his tracks. “Consequences.”

The hybrid’s arms dropped, fists clenched. He snarled but didn’t come any closer.

The elder Original disappeared from the entry and reappeared at her side. “Elena,” he said stiffly. She looked up at him, wincing a bit guiltily as he frowned at her. “That was a very dangerous thing to do.” He paused, closing his eyes for a second with a deep sigh. “But it could have gone worse.”

Elena grimaced. “I… I’m sorry.” She glanced at Klaus, who turned away with a gruff noise. “I didn’t mean to, it just—he was just _there_ , going on and on about how it was his city and there were rules, and he kept flirting with Caroline even though she was clearly uncomfortable, and—it just _happened_.” Her lips thinned, heart beating erratically as her eyes grew wet. “I knew I messed up as soon as he was gone, it just… I’m _sorry_.”

Elijah heaved another sigh somewhere between annoyance and affection, wrapping an arm around her to pull her close. “It’s alright,” he soothed.

After a moment, she looked up and over at Klaus again. “Oh, and… and I pretty much confirmed he’s controlling the Quarter with a witch.” She paused. “And I think we might have an idea of where he’s keeping her.”

She felt Elijah stiffen in surprise as Klaus’ head whipped back around to glare in her direction. “How?” the hybrid demanded.

“When I was telling him about how he didn’t scare me,” she said slowly, “I said something like, ‘Whatever magic-tracking device, whatever witch you have up your sleeve doesn’t scare me.’” She glanced up at Elijah, frowning. “When I said _witch_ , he seemed almost… worried. Shaken, scared—like he was afraid that if I knew, you or Klaus would know. It’s not a lot, but…”

“And where do you think she is?” the elder Original asked. “At the Abattoir?”

Elena shook her head slowly. “Caroline and I were over on Bourbon Street looking for this church we heard some locals talking about,” she told him. “It was supposedly beautiful, but there was this crazy murder spree that went down a few months ago, so it’s basically abandoned.”

“Basically,” Caroline chirped, finally entering the fray with a bag over her shoulder and a book under her arm, “except we saw the curtains move upstairs, and I _know_ I saw a candle lighting itself over and over. Just like Bonnie does when she’s bored and needs an outlet for her magic.”

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” Klaus demanded.

“Elena and I are gonna check it out,” she replied, like it was obvious. “See if we can figure out how Marcel got the witch under his control, maybe try and convince her to help us take him down. If he’s holding her in some creepy attic, she’s gotta want some fresh air by now.”

“Have you all gone _mad_?” he ranted, almost to himself. “Have you completely lost your minds?” He jabbed a finger at Elena, then Caroline. “The two of you,” he emphasized, “barely have two years of experience put together, and you want to put yourselves in the path of _not only_ Marcel, a vampire two centuries your senior, not to mention his _trained army_ , but whatever powerful witch he may or may not have under his thumb!”

“We weren’t afraid of going against Elijah,” Elena said quietly, “or you, or your hybrids. Why would we be worried about Marcel?”

“You—”

“My best friend is a witch,” Caroline added, “and Elena’s been used in like a billion spells. If anyone’s gonna get through to this witch, it’s clearly _not_ gonna be an Original, and Hayley needs to be on house arrest for the baby. So—we’re going.”

“You most certainly are not!” he roared. Elena jumped, but Caroline didn’t flinch. “You have no idea what Marcel has up his sleeve—if there is even anything _there_. It’s a horror film in the making! You _cannot_ risk it.”

“Listen, Klaus,” the blonde spat, “Rebekah is here for Elijah and Hayley. Elijah is here for _you_ and Hayley. Elena and I are here to help Elijah save your ass when things inevitably go south, and we’re willing to do a few crazy things to get it done. If Marcel has a witch, we need her on our side, sooner rather than later. That’s just the way it is. It’s common sense. This—sending me and Elena in first to try to get her on our side—is the best way to do it while keeping everyone alive and keeping _you_ out of it and in Marcel’s good graces.”

“You can’t just go in without a plan,” Elijah cut in, shaking his head. “Klaus is right. You have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“So we’re supposed to wait until Sophie says it’s _time_?” she scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Caroline’s right,” Elena insisted, taking Elijah’s hand. “We’re the only ones who can do it. We can’t risk Hayley, it’ll be months before Klaus is close enough, and the only way Marcel would let you or Rebekah anywhere near his secrets is if you’re—” She cut herself off, grimacing as she looked away.

The room was quiet as they absorbed her outburst. Finally, Elena sighed, looking up into Elijah’s eyes with her hand on his cheek. “If you want us to wait and make a better plan, that’s fine,” she murmured. “But who knows what could happen in that time?”

She could feel his jaw tick beneath her hand, frustrated but trying not to show it. She moved her thumb to the skin beneath his eye, gently soothing him. It wasn’t something she did intentionally; she just wanted to comfort him in some way.

Then he was the one sighing, taking her hand from his cheek and leaning away to look tensely at his brother. “At the very least, we need to keep an eye on Sophie,” he said.

“Yeah,” Caroline said suddenly, coming to a realization fast enough to give anyone whiplash. “I don’t like the idea of a witch with a link to Hayley walking around New Orleans without protection—anything could happen, especially if she can’t use magic.” She sighed heavily and turned to Klaus. “If you won’t let us go see about Marcel’s witch, at least let me watch Sophie until we figure something else out.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, eyes hard like glass. Then he sighed, passing a hand over his face in exhaustion.

“Fine,” he growled. “Guard the witch.” As she turned to go, he grabbed her arm. “But for God’s sake,” he warned, harsh, “make yourself scarce if Marcel should show his face at Rousseau’s. No need to be giving him any more ideas.”

Caroline pursed her lips, clearly irritated at the insinuation. “Worried your kid is a little too much like you?” she snarked, pulling away.

His eyes narrowed. “Actually, I was more referring to the idea that he could follow you back to us—or worse, kill you for fraternizing with the witches,” he spat. He shook his head. “Don’t get cocky, Caroline. Just because you’re beautiful and strong enough to beat Damon doesn’t mean you are prepared to take on Marcel yourself. Be careful.”

Something sparked in her eyes, and she raised a brow. “Are you calling in a favor?”

Klaus scoffed. “No. I’m asking you to not get yourself killed over your own stupidity.”

She frowned, miffed, but ultimately nodded in agreement. “I promise.”

Then she was gone, disappearing down the hall and presumably out of the house. Klaus once again whirled on Elena, jabbing a finger in her direction and tilting his head in warning.

“If I ever catch you meeting with Marcel again,” he cautioned, voice low and dangerous, “none of my brother’s _consequences_ will save you from my wrath. Is that understood?”

Elena frowned but nodded. “Fine,” she said, bitter. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll _try_ not to run into him again.”

He disappeared after sending her another heated glare, and Elijah sighed as he moved to face her.

His hands framed her face, delicate but forceful as he made her look at him. “Please, Elena.” His voice was barely louder than a breath. Her face crumpled with guilt when she heard the fear laced in it; it was barely there, but the fact that she could hear it all was enough. “Please don’t upset him. Them. I—I can’t lose you. I won’t.” His eyes narrowed, gaze fierce. “Not to Niklaus, not again. Certainly not to _Marcellus_.”

She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into him, head resting on his shoulder as his arms came around her. “I really am sorry,” she muttered.

Elijah chuckled lightly. “I know.” She felt his fingers comb through her hair. “At least you didn’t tell him about us,” he mused. “He might have killed you on the spot. We had a bit of a… falling-out, back in the day.”

Elena rolled her eyes again and straightened to look at him. “As far as Marcel is concerned, we’re nothing more than a strange friendship… and according to Caroline, you owe me. Apparently, the score is something like thirty-one to twenty-seven.”

His brow raised. “How is that?” he challenged. “As far as I know it’s only tied at twenty-six…”

“I think she was including the humanity thing.”

“Twenty-seven to twenty-six, then, my favor.”

“ _Noooo_ ,” she said, giggling. “Rebekah, remember? I convinced her to abandon the Cure _and_ come here—she just put on a show before she gave in. Twenty-eight to twenty-seven, _my_ favor.”

“And the other three?”

Elena pursed her lips, glancing around nervously before clearing her throat. “I gotta tell you something,” she murmured. “The bedrooms are spelled, too, right?” He nodded, and she smiled, taking his hand. “Come on.”

In a second, they were in her room. She shut the door behind her and made sure it was locked as he took a seat in the desk chair in the corner; she perched on the desk in front of him, hands planted beside her as her feet dangled a foot off the floor.

“What is it?” His head tilted in curiosity, and he put a hand on her knee, thumb moving in soothing circles. “Did something else happen?”

Elena grimaced, hesitating. “I… First of all, you need to know that Marcel didn’t actually _see_ us do anything. We were done when he showed up, just hanging out waiting for the ferry to dock when he appeared, so there’s no way he actually saw. We’re clear on that front.”

“Saw what?” he asked patiently. “What happened?”

“I…” Again, she hesitated, unable to meet his eyes. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Did you ever stop to wonder why we were on the ferry in the first place?” she muttered, eyes on the floor.

Elijah stiffened slightly. “I assumed you were playing tourists,” he said slowly. His gaze shot to the bags tossed haphazardly across her bed. “Maybe headed to or from the shopping district.”

She had dipped into the Gilbert Fund for the trip—barely made a dent in it, but she felt guilty that she got to have it when Jeremy never would.

“You also said Caroline wanted to watch the Sun set on the river,” he added. “Were these not the only reasons?”

Elena shook her head. “Not exactly. We were… getting rid of something,” she admitted softly.

“Getting rid of _what_ , Elena?” His tone wasn’t harsh but strict; she was evading, and he learned long ago that sometimes she needed a push to get the words out. Sure enough, he found himself blinking at the force of her next words.

“A dagger,” she blurted. “I was getting rid of a dagger. That’s why we were gone so long. Hayley and Caroline found them, and I figured… that they were better off buried or hidden or chucked in the river.” She frowned apologetically as she met his shocked gaze. “I know I could have just given them to you, but… I mean, you have one, Stefan has one, there were three left that Klaus had. No telling where the last one is since Kol probably hid it. I just thought…” She sighed, combing her hair back from her face roughly. Her hands landed on Elijah’s shoulders as she rose to stand. “I just didn’t wanna take any chances,” she finished. “Not because I found out the daggers can be used against me, but because they can be used against _you_. Against Rebekah and Caroline.” She huffed, shaking her head. “I don’t care about me. I care about you guys. Klaus is…”

Elena trailed for a moment, searching. There were a lot of words that could be used to describe Klaus; too many for her to pick just one. She shook her head again and changed tactics.

“You said it yourself,” she reminded him. “And I told him just now. Klaus pushes away happiness. He definitely doesn’t know when to accept help. I wasn’t sure what he would do with all of us _here_ , in the city, and I—I just wanted you to be _safe_.”

Elijah was still frozen in shock, though he tilted his head back to look up at her when she stood in front of him. His jaw was slack with a kind of amazed surprise she had only seen on him once before, before today.

“That look,” she murmured, trailing her fingers across his jaw. “It’s the same one you had when I stabbed myself in front of you. You had it earlier, too, downstairs.”

It seemed to jostle him from his daze, but he didn’t respond to her statement. Instead, he said quietly, “You… You got rid of the daggers.”

Elena nodded, still cupping his face gently. “All three of them,” she confirmed. “The ones that Klaus had. Caroline and I are the only ones who know where they are, and thanks to the Bennetts and the grimoires, no witch can locate them through any spells, either.” She paused. “I’m on vervain. Caroline is, too, though we’ll have to find a supplier in the city. She mostly only needs it for compulsion, just in case Klaus ever wanted to get inside her thoughts. I doubt he would without her consent, but…”

Elijah nodded, thoughtful. “It’s a good idea,” he agreed. Then he raised a brow, hands settling at her waist. “Since when are _you_ on vervain?”

“Since we got back to Mystic Falls,” she hummed. “At least, mostly. Between Prom and getting here, I didn’t really bother this week—it always makes me feel a little buzzy, even when I was human, and I wanted to be free for a while.” She shuffled closer, fingers weaving through his hair as she halfway sat in his lap. “Living with Klaus… isn’t the safest thing I’ve ever done. I figured I should put a limit on the things he could get away with. I stopped taking it the night before Prom, mostly because I was already anxious, and it just made me feel worse.”

He shrugged. “I only wondered—obviously, you weren’t on it in Willoughby.”

Elena scrunched her nose, laughing lightly. “Why do you remember the name of that stupid town?” she teased.

She leaned in without waiting for a response, pecking his lips while her arms wound around him.

“I wasn’t,” she agreed after a quiet moment. “But that was mainly because I was being reckless. Then we got back to town, and I had to deal with Klaus, and… vampire paranoia hasn’t exactly gotten better with age, so—I figured it’s better to build a tolerance. Like Katherine and Stefan and Damon. I was on it before flipping the switch, too,” she pointed out.

Elijah smiled. “Well, it’s good to know you _do_ know how to plan,” he said wryly, kissing her cheek. “Rather than diving headfirst and dealing with the fallout later, that is.”

Elena scoffed as his lips moved across her jaw. “I had a plan,” she grumbled. “You’re just mad because I pointed out the obvious.”

His lips paused briefly over her pulse, lingering on the skin there as he murmured, “You did, and I am. But any plan that risks your life is not one worth following. At least not to me.”

She gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, when he nipped at her throat with blunt teeth. It turned into a soft groan when he let it go and sucked at the small bruise that she could feel forming, soothing it with his tongue. It would be gone in a matter of minutes, maybe even seconds, but for the moment it sent little sparks tingling down her spine.

“We’re in a town full of hostile vampires,” Elena managed as he moved down her neck. She tilted her head back as she struggled to find the words for her argument. “Any plan we make is gonna risk my life and everyone else’s.” She sighed. “Other than Hayley… Caroline and I are the most vulnerable. It’s dangerous for us to _be_ here, with everything happening—but that doesn’t mean we can’t help.”

Elijah hummed against her throat, the vibrations making her shiver slightly. She imagined it, briefly—his fangs piercing her throat, red gushing from her vein to his mouth—and bit her lip to stifle a moan. It only lasted a moment before she was brought back to reality, his lips only barely grazing her skin without a hint of teeth in sight. For a second, she was dazed, startled, confused. With the vervain in her system, her blood would only hurt him; the scene that she imagined would not happen, so why had she thought of it?

“Perhaps,” he allowed, voice soft as it cut through her racing thoughts. He placed a kiss over her collarbone before tilting his head back up to meet her gaze. “But the risk lessens substantially when everyone is included in the process. You know this. We’ve forced Klaus into letting us help him, for the time being; I didn’t think I needed to force you and Caroline to cooperate, as well.”

Elena sighed, resigned rather than blissful now, and leaned their foreheads together. “Elijah…” Her fingers stroked through the hair at the back of his neck, knotting and unknotting the tiny strands, and they both closed their eyes. “I promise I won’t plan anything without you. But you have to promise me, too.” Her eyes opened, and she smiled fondly at him, kissing his brow lightly. “I know you don’t want to lose me—I don’t want to lose you, either, not just as we're starting this relationship—but your family comes first. It always has, and I don’t want you to change that because of your feelings for me.”

“Elena…” He sighed. “I meant what I told Sophie: _You_ are my family. I promised you always and forever, and I meant that. Even Rebekah has stated that you belong with us.”

“I know,” she conceded. “But that’s different. Maybe not less meaningful, but different. I accept that. If there’s a plan that will work, even if it’s risky for me or Caroline… you can’t just veto it because you’re afraid of the risk.”

She shrugged, taking his left hand in her right and entwining their fingers. Her daylight ring glittered in the fading light of dusk.

“Sometimes,” Elena said softly, “you just gotta have faith.” Her grin widened. “Besides, we both know that if it came down to me and Marcel… I’d make it out. I mean—I’ve died like three times now. That has to count for something.”

Elijah sighed deeply, squeezing her fingers. “I don’t like it,” he said pointedly. “You shouldn’t put yourself so needlessly in harm’s way.” His lips thinned as he paused before relenting, “But I will admit that this fits character, and it’s your heart I fell in love with, so I will trust your decisions. They are yours to make—I promised you that before, and I won’t take it back now.”

“Good.” She sealed it with a lingering kiss, eyes fluttering once she drew back. “I would have hated to make you break your word.”

“Would you?”

“Yes, actually.” She smiled. “It’s your _thing_ … and us keeping our word to each other is our thing. You’ve always trusted my decisions, respected them, even when no one else did. You never had to ask if I was sure, or if I was out of my mind, or any of the other stuff everyone else thought. So—yeah. I would have hated to lose that. Even for a second.”

Elijah hummed. “You won’t.” He pecked her on the lips softly before shifting to kiss her neck again.

“Even if I get myself killed?” Elena huffed, tilting her head again. “Elijah, we both know that eventually there’s gonna be a choice I make that you can’t or won’t go along with. Something that you hate. Or maybe it’ll be the other way around. Who knows, with us. Especially with how new this thing is between us… something is gonna happen that’s gonna push the wrong buttons. We can’t always agree. I just didn’t want today, this one thing, to be that. I want it to last a little longer.”

“It’s not,” he whispered against her shoulder. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out—together, I promise. Everything will be alright.”

“Alright,” she echoed.

Elijah leaned up to kiss her again, long and slow—intense. When they pulled away, he sighed. “We still need to talk about yesterday.”

Elena breathed out heavily, not quite a sigh. “I know.” Her fingers tightened around his. “I know. I could barely sleep last night, thinking about it.”

“I need to know what happened, Elena,” he murmured. “Just tell me.”

So she did—everything she remembered, at least, which wasn’t much. She recalled the pain as she entered the kitchen, flashes of light and color and darkness that had taken over her vision too fast to see but that she had somehow understood perfectly. She remembered seeing Klaus in the study, realizing he had daggered Elijah, and the rush that had swept through her, one of fury and something akin to bloodlust but not in the vampiric-thirst sense. After that, it was just her arguing with Klaus; she told him what she told the hybrid, how Rebekah and Hayley had stood with her. Then she broke Klaus’ neck, taking him by surprise, and all that mattered was getting Elijah to wake up. She just—

“—needed you to wake up,” she said. Her head was bowed; she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I felt… frantic, I guess. Panicky. Rebekah barely stopped me before feeding you my blood, and I really need to thank her for that.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I mean, I basically would have been forcing you, since you were unconscious, and that’s—that’s so not me. That’s not _us_ , how we are. Maybe, if I was human, that would have been okay, but I know it’s different between vampires, and I almost did it anyway. As soon as all the fog and anxiety cleared, I knew it was wrong. But it didn’t matter to me in the moment. I just—I just needed you to wake up, and you weren’t waking up, and I was…”

Elijah shook his head. “It’s alright,” he soothed, running his fingers through her hair. She rested her forehead on his shoulder with a sigh, and he pressed his lips to her temple. “The important thing is that Rebekah stopped you, and you didn’t push it. You let it go. Thank you for saving me from the dagger once again.”

Elena smiled. “You’re welcome.” There was a pause, and she stiffened slightly, hesitant. “So… we’re okay, right? You kind of… You kind of freaked out when I told you about the pain yesterday. I was a little worried.”

“We’re okay,” he affirmed with a smile. “Though my mind jumped to some… less than desirable meanings behind your pain and visions, they could have been caused by any number of things.”

“Like what?”

“Listing them would take years. Decades.” His voice was amused, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze. “But you can rest assured, we will figure it all out. We have plenty of time to do so.”

“Forever,” Elena whispered. She kissed him softly, sighing softly. “We’ll figure it out eventually. For now, I think we should focus on other things.” There was a mischievous light to her eyes as she leaned back in with a smile.

Elijah returned her kiss with fervor. “Perhaps,” he allowed. Another heated kiss before he pulled away, leaning back to study her. “We should go out,” he said suddenly.

She raised a brow. “Out? Out where?”

He shrugged. “Dinner, dancing—whatever you want, wherever you want.”

“Hmm.” Her lips pursed. “Like at a club, or actual dancing?” she teased.

Elijah grinned. “I doubt we could get into any galas on such short notice…” His hand squeezed her waist, almost anxious. “Perhaps just dinner and a walk?”

Elena smiled down at him, leaning in for another kiss. “Sounds perfect,” she murmured.

“Wonderful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I posted those little scenes as a separate story called "We Remain: Klaroline Asides". It's basically all the little Klaroline things that I referenced but didn't show, and most of it takes place in the early chapters-- I'm hoping to include more Klaroline in the main story so I can avoid posting separate chapters. I also went back and added links in previous chapters that lead to certain chapters in WRKA, so newer readers can find them easier.
> 
> Hope you like this set-up!! It was the best compromise I could th8nk of!
> 
> As always, happy reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Like? Don't like? (This mostly pertains to details and such. If you don't like large sections of my plot points, don't read the story--this should be common sense? but for those who don't know that...There you go.)
> 
> Anyway...Any issues? Mistakes? Questions?
> 
> As always, feel free to comment any questions or...well, comments you have, and I'll try to answer! Always up for opinions or critiques (on grammar/spelling/details, not what I should or should not do with my plot, thanks)!
> 
> All my love, as always! Happy reading!


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